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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


V/ILLIAM  TELL. 


BOOK  OF 


BENEFACTORS 


BOSTON: 

C.H.   PEIRCE    AND    G.C.EAND 


LIVES 

or 

BENEE  ACTORS: 

'r^V 

vPo.  rv\t.A  t 

:     ^rio...:;.  la       (croocLv  •''^  r\ 

BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF 

PETER    PARLEY'S    TALES. 

BOSTON: 

PUBLISHED 

BY    GEO.    C.   RAND,    CORNIIILL. 

WM.  J. 

REYNOLDS  AND  COMPANY. 

18  5  2. 

PRESS  OF  GEORGE  C.   RAND  &  CO. 


PREFACE. 


Ii  is  not  the  purpose  of  this  volume  to  present  the  lives  of  all,  or  any 
considerable  portion,  of  those  persons  who  have  acquired  the  most  enviable 
of  litlea— that  of  benefactors  op  mankind.  Nothing  more  is  attempted 
than  to  lay  before  the  reader  brief  sketches  of  a  few  of  those  persons  who 
may  lay  claim  to  this  designation,  either  for  their  deeds,  their  example,  or 
their  influence. 

There  are  several  reflections  suggested  by  our  subject,  which  are  worthy 
of  consideration.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  to  be  remarked,  that  a  book  op 
BENEFACTORS,  thougli  it  be  devoted  to  the  memory  of  those  most  truly  hon- 
ored of  mankind,  docs  not  include  mere  warriors,  wits,  geniuses,  states- 
men and  millionares — those  who  arc  apt  to  fancy  that  they  are  the  master- 
spirits of  mankind. 

Another  reflection  is  this — that  goodness — beneficence — is  felt  and  ac- 
knowledged by  mankind.  Though  accidental  circumstances — fleeting  pas- 
sions or  prejudices — may  obscure  the  light  of  virtue,  so  that  it  is  unseen  for  a 
time — still,  that  light  is  ever  tending  to  struggle  out  from  the  mists,  and 
always  commands  the  homage  of  the  human  heart,  when  it  is  perceived.  It 
is  clear,  therefore,  that  there  is  a  moral  as  well  as  a  physical  sun  in  the  uni- 
verse, and  that  its  rays  are  as  truly  adapted  to  a  soul  within,  as  the  pencils 
of  natural  light  to  the  optic  nerve. 

Another  reflection,  and  a  grateful  one  to  the  American  bosom,  is,  that  our 
country  has  furnished  the  finest  character — that  acknowledged  by  the  civil- 
ized world  to  be  the  finest — in  the  annals  of  our  race,  at  least  in  modern 
times.  The  value  of  Washington's  example,  aside  from  his  great  deeds  in 
our  behalf,  is  beyond  calculation,  if  we  use  it  aright.  His  character  is  not 
only  of  inestimable  worth,  as  a  model  upon  which  to  mould  our  youth ;  but 


o*Jxbi'Uo 


IV  PREFACE. 

is  it  not  also  of  great  significance,  in  respect  to  our  institutions,  and  indeed 
to  the  cause  of  liuman  advancement,  that  it  should  have  been  formed  in 
resisting  monarchical  despotism  and  in  laying  the  foundations  of  a  republic? 
The  reader  will  remark  that  we  have  not  confined  our  selections  of  bene- 
factors to  those  who  stand  before  the  world,  professedly,  as  such.  Those  who 
have  been  eminently  useful,  though  in  the  pursuit  of  their  own  avocations, 
we  have  esteemed  as  doers  of  good  to  mankind,  and  given  them  a  place  in  our 
pages.  Of  this  class  are  Fulton,  Whitney,  Arkwright  and  others.  For  the 
brief  sketches  of  some  of  this  class,  toward  the  close  of  the  volume,  we  are 
largely  indebted  to  the  valuable  little  work,  entitled  Exemplary  Biography, 
by  Chambers,  of  Edinburgh. 


C^-.'    ■       ■  -■.    .      '.-.jo 


CONTENTS. 

FAGB 

Washinoton, 7 

Jay, 57 

Henry, 89 

Fkanklin, 113 

La  Fayette, 160 

Kosciusko, 191 

William  Tell, 202 

HOWAKD,       .......                   .  214 

Jenner, 224 

Oberliit, 231 

gottenbeso, 242 

Hakgraves, 249 

Akkwright, 283 

Whitney, 260 

Fulton, 267 

Copernicus, 274 

Galileo, 277 

LiNNJSUS, 2S2 

BowDiTCH, 283 

Hueer, 305 

Herschel, 309 

Davy, 317 


1* 


MOUNT  VERNON. 


A  BOOK  OF  BENEFACTORS. 


GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 

This  great  man, — "the  first  in  war,  the  first  in 
peace,  the  first  in  the  hearts  of  his  countrymen," — was 
the  third  son  of  Augustine  Washington,*  and  was 
born  near  the  Potomac,  in  Westmoreland  county, 
Virginia,  February  22nd,  1732.  He  was  sent  to  a 
common  country  school,  Avhere  little  was  taught 
beyond  the  mysteries  of  reading,  writing  and  arith- 
metic. But  he  profited  largely  by  the  slender 
advantages  he  possessed.  He  was  inquisitive,  dili- 
gent and  docile,  and  readily  appropriated  to  himself 
all  the  knowledge  possessed  by  his  teacher. 

It  would  appear  that  he  had  other  instruction  at  a 
later  period  ;  for,  at  the  age  of  thirteen,  he  commenced 
the  study  of  mathematics.  When  he  finally  left 
school,  he  had  become  a  proficient  in  geometry,  trigo- 
nometry and  surveying,  for  which  last  he  had  a  decided 
partiality.     During  the  last  summer  he  was  at  school, 

*  The  Washington  family  appears  to  have  been  of  some 
antiquity,  and  of  high  respectability  in  England.  John  and 
Lawrence  Washington  emigrated  to  Virginia,  about  the  year 
1657,  and  settled  at  Bridge's  Creek,  near  the  Potomac,  and 
became  successful  planters.  John  married  Anne  Pope,  by 
whom  he  had  two  sonSj  La^vrence  and  John,  and  a  daughter. 


8  GEORGE    -WASHINGTON. 

he  surveyed  the  lands  adjoining  the  school-house, 
of  which  the  plans,  measurements  and  calculations 
were  found  among  his  papers  after  his  death. 

Among  the  interesting  remains  of  this  remarkable 
man,  there  are  manuscript  school-books,  which  afford 
us  the  means  of  ascertaining  his  early  habits  and 
pursuits.  "When  he  was  about  thirteen  years  of 
age,  he  copied,  with  much  care  and  in  a  neat  hand, 
the  forms  of  business  papers,  such  as  notes  of  hand, 
bills  of  exchange,  receipts,  bonds,  indentures,  bills  of 
sale,  land  warrants,  leases,  deeds  and  wills — all  evinc- 
ing great  patience  and  care.  In  the  same  book  are 
selections  in  rhyme,  distinguished  for  their  religious 
and  moral  tone,  rather  than  for  their  poetical  merit. 

A  very  interesting  portion  of  one  of  these  manuscript 
books  is  a  Code  of  Politeness  or  Rules  of  Behavior, 
which  appear  to  have  been  compiled  by  himself  when 
he  was  about  thirteen  years  of  age.  They  are,  on 
the  whole,  drawn  up  with  much  good  sense  and 
propriety  of  feeling,  and  we  are  doubtless  to  ascribe 
something  of  that  consistency,  decorum,  dignity,  con- 
descension and  mildness,  which  distinguished  Wash- 
ington through  life,  to  the  principles  thus  early  adopted 
and  established. 

In  the  year  1746,  when  he  was  fourteen  years  old, 
he  was  offered  a  midshipman's  berth  in  the  British 
navy.  This  was  obtained  by  his  brother  Lawrence, 
who  had  been  an  officer  in  the  British  army  and 
served  at  the  siege  of  Carthegena.  Young  George 
was  pleased  with  the  appointment,  and  prepared  with 
a  buoyant  spirit  to  enter  upon  its  duties;  but  as  the 
time  approached  for  his  departure,  the  solicitude  of 


GEORGE   WASHINGTON.  9 

his  mother  interposed,  and  the  scheme  was  abandoned. 
He  was  her  eldest  son,  and  she  was  now  a  widow. 
We  may  therefore  easily  conceive  the  feelings  which 
led  her  to  such  a  decision. 

Washington's  school  education  was  finished  in 
the  autumn  preceding  his  sixteenth  birth-day.  His 
acquirements  were  confined  to  reading,  writing,  arith- 
metic and  the  simpler  portions  of  mathematics.  It 
does  not  appear  that  he  had  any  instruction  in  gram- 
mar, and  therefore,  the  excellent  style  of  wiuting,  of 
which  he  was  afterwards  the  master,  must  have  been 
the  result  of  subsequent  practice  and  study.  Nor  did 
he  ever  enter  upon  the  study  of  the  ancient  classics. 
After  the  French  ofliccrs  had  joined  the  army,  during 
the  revolution,  he  paid  some  little  attention  to  their 
language,  yet  never  was  able  to  read,  write  or  trans- 
late it.  From  these  statements,  it  appears  that  the 
actual  amount  of  knowledge  acquired  by  George 
Washington  at  school,  was  greatly  inferior  to  that 
which  is  taught  at  the  present  high  schools  throughout 
the  country.  Indeed,  most  of  the  children  in  our  New 
England  seminaries,  at  the  age  of  twelve  years,  have 
compassed  a  wider  field  of  learning ,  than  the  hero  of 
our  story  when  he  had  reached  the  beginning  of  his 
manhood. 

But  if  his  acquisitions  Avere  not  great,  he  had 
established  habits  which  were  of  even  higher  utility. 
He  had  subjected  himself  to  a  judicious  code  of  man- 
ners ;  he  had  acquired  habits  of  patience  and  order, 
even  in  the  dry  and  irksome  details  of  business ;  he 
had  obtained  the  mastery  of  his  quick  and  vehement 
passions ;  he  had  accustomed  himself  to  be  g aided  by 


10  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

duty  rather  than  inclination.  He  had,  indeed,  habit- 
uated himself  to  so  complete  a  system  of  discipline, 
that  he  seems  to  have  taken  pleasure  in  what  would 
have  been  revolting  to  others.  He  could  find  amuse- 
ment, even  at  thirteen,  in  forming  and  writing  out, 
with  the  utmost  nicety  of  arrangement  and  in  a  fair 
hand,  elaborate  mathematical  calculations,  diagrams, 
&c. ! 

"  These  particulars,"  says  his  biographer,  Mr. 
Sparks,  "  will  not  be  thought  too  trivial  to  be  men- 
tioned, when  it  is  known  that  he  retained  similar 
habits  through  life.  His  business  papers,  day-books, 
legers  and  letter-books,  in  which,  before  the  revolu- 
tion, no  one  wrote  but  himself,  exhibit  specimens  of 
the  same  studious  care  and  exactness.  Every  fact 
occupies  a  clear  and  distinct  place ;  the  hand-writing 
is  round  and  regular,  without  interlineations,  blots  or 
blemishes ;  and  if  mistakes  occurred,  the  faulty  words 
were  so  skilfully  erased  and  corrected,  as  to  render 
the  defect  invisible  except  to  a  scrutinizing  eye. 

"  The  constructing  of  tables,  diagrams  and  other 
figures  relating  to  numbers  or  classifications  was  an 
exercise  in  which  he  seems  at  all  times  to  have  taken 
much  delight.  If  any  of  his  farms  were  to  be  divided 
into  new  lots,  a  plan  was  first  drawn  on  paper ;  if  he 
meditated  a  rotation  of  crops,  or  a  change  in  the  mode 
of  culture,  the  various  items  of  expense,  labor,  products 
and  profits  were  reduced  to  tabular  forms ;  and,  in  his 
written  instructions  to  his  managers,  which  were 
annually  repeated,  the  same  method  was  pursued. 

"  While  at  the  head  of  the  army,  this  habit  was  of 
especial  service  to  him.     The  names  and  rank  of  the 


GEOKGE    "WASIIINGTOX.  11 

officers,  the  returns  of  the  adjutants,  commissaries 
and  quarter-masters,  were  compressed  by  him  into 
systematic  tables,  so  contrived  as  to  fix  strongly  in 
his  mind  the  most  essential  parts,  without  being 
encumbered  with  details.  When  the  army  was  to 
march,  or  perform  any  movements,  requiring  com- 
bination and  concert,  a  scheme  was  first  delineated ; 
and  at  the  beginning  of  an  active  campaign,  or  in  the 
preparation  for  a  detached  enterprise,  the  line  of 
battle  was  projected  and  sketched  on  paper,  each 
officer  being  assigned  to  his  post,  with  the  names  of 
the  regiments  and  strength  of  the  forces  he  was  to 
command. 

"  During  the  presidency,  it  was  likewise  his  custom 
to  subject  the  treasury  reports  and  accompanying 
documents  to  the  process  of  tabular  condensation,  with 
a  vast  expenditure  of  labor  and  patience  ;  but  it  ena- 
bled him  to  grasp  and  retain  in  their  order  a  series  of 
isolated  facts,  and  the  results  of  a  complicated  mass 
of  figures,  which  could  never  have  been  mastered  so 
effectually  by  any  other  mode  of  approaching  them." 
Such  were  some  of  the  great  results  of  the  habits 
adopted  by  Washington  in  his  school-boy  days, — 
though  these  were  doubtless  dictated  in  some  degree 
by  his  natural  disposition. 

The  character  of  Washington  during  this  period  of 
iiis  life,  is  thus  drawn  by  his  biographer :  "  Tradition 
reports  that  he  was  inquisitive,  docile  and  diligent ; 
but  it  adds  that  his  military  propensities  and  passion 
for  active  sports,  displayed  themselves  in  his  boyhood  ; 
tliat  he  formed  his  schoolmates  into  companies,  who 
paraded,  marched  and  fought  mimic  battles,  in  which 


12  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

he  was  always  the  commander  of  one  of  the  parties. 
He  had  a  fondness  for  the  athletic  amusements  of 
runnhig,  jumping  -wrestling,  tossing  bars,  and  other 
feats  of  agility  and  bodily  exercise.  Indeed,  it  is  well 
known  that  these  practices  were  continued  by  him 
after  he  had  arrived  at  the  age  of  mature  life.  It  has 
also  been  said  that,  while  at  school,  his  probity  and 
demeanor  were  such  as  to  win  the  deference  of  the 
otlier  boys,  who  were  accustomed  to  make  him  the 
arbiter  of  their  disputes  and  never  failed  to  be  satisfied 
with  his  judgment." 

At  the  time  of  George  "Washington's  birth,  his  father 
resided  near  the  banks  of  the  Potomac,  in  Westmore- 
land county ;  but  he  removed  not  long  afterwards  to 
an  estate  owned  by  him  in  Stafford  county,  on  the 
cast  side  of  the  Rappahannoc  river,  opposite  Freder- 
icksburg. Here  he  lived  till  his  death,  which  hap- 
pened, after  a  sudden  and  short  illness,  on  the  12th  of 
April,  1743,  at  the  age  of  forty-nine.  He  was  buried 
at  Bridge's  Creek,  in  the  tomb  of  his  ancestors.* 

Washington's  mother  was  now  left  with  the  weighty 
charge  of  five  young  children;  George,  the  eldest, 
being  eleven  years  old.     She  was,  however,  a  woman 

*  Augiisline  Washington  was  twice  married,  and  had  ten 
children — four  by  the  fi  rst,  and  six  by  the  second  vnk.  The  sub- 
ject of  our  memoir  was  the  first-born  of  the  latter, — Mary  Bull. 
Little  is  known  of  the  character  or  history  of  Augustine  Wash- 
ington, but,  as  he  possessed  a  valuable  estate,  chiefly  acquired 
by  his  own  industry,  it  is  fair  to  infer  that  he  was  in  business 
methodical,  skilful  and  upright.  He  was  a  planter,  and  each 
of  his  sons  inherited  from  him  a  separate  plantation.  Mount 
Vernon  was  given  to  Augustine,  and  afterwards  became  the 
property  of  George. 


GEORGE    WASIIIXGTON.  13 

of  good  sense,  and  devotee!  herself  with  great  energy 
to  the  complicated  duties  of  her  trust.  Her  assiduity 
and  fidelity  overcame  every  obstacle,  and  she  lived 
long  to  enjoy  the  best  reward  of  a  mother's  solicitude, 
— the  success  and  happiness  of  her  children.  George 
continued  with  his  mother  till  he  left  school,  soon 
after  which,  he  went  to  reside  with  his  brother  Law- 
rence, then  proprietor  of  the  country  seat  which  is 
well  known  by  the  title  of  Mount  Vernon.  Here  he 
spent  the  winter,  devoting  himself  to  the  study  of 
mathematics  and  the  exercise  of  surveying.  He  also 
became  acquainted  with  Lord  Fairfax,  and  other 
members  of  the  Fairfax  family  established  in  that  part 
of  Virginia,  with  whom  his  brother  Lawrence  was 
connected  by  marriage. 

Lord  Fairfax  was  the  proprietor  of  an  immense 
tract  of  wild  land  in  Virginia,  extending  even  into  the 
recesses  of  the  Allegany  mountains.  Learning- 
young  George's  turn  for  surveying,  he  employed  him 
to  survey  a  portion  of  these  lands.  In  pursuit  of  this 
appointment,  he  set  out  upon  his  first  surveying 
expedition  shortly  after  he  was  sixteen  years  old. 
The  enterprise  was  arduous  and  partook  not  a  little 
of  adventure.  It  was  March,  but  winter  still  lingered 
on  the  summits  of  the  mountains,  and  the  rivers  were 
swollen  with  freshets.  Still,  the  youthful  leader,  with 
his  baud  of  attendants,  pressed  eagerly  forward.  They 
soon  plunged  into  the  trackless  wilderness,  crossed  the 
first  ridge  of  the  AUeganies,  and  entered  upon  their 
duties.  Here,  ip.  the  solitude  of  the  forest,  they 
remained  for  several  months,  often  with  no  shelter  but 
the  sky,  and  far  removed  from  human  habitations, 
VI.— 2 


14  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

except  those  of  the  savages,  who  dwelt  in  scattered 
bands  amid  these  wild  regions.  At  last,  having 
accomplished  his  task,  he  returned,  and  had  the  satis- 
faction of  receiving  the  full  approbation  of  his  em- 
ployer. 

Young  Washington's  reputation  as  a  surveyor  was 
now  established,  and  he  received  a  commission  from 
the  governor  of  the  colony,  which  gave  authority  to 
his  surveys.  He  devoted  three  years  steadily  to  this 
pursuit ;  and,  as  there  were  few  surveyors  in  that 
quarter,  the  compensation  he  received  was  liberal. 
At  the  same  time,  he  was  forming  a  character  for 
probity  and  correct  business  habits.  During  this 
period  his  home  was  with  his  brother  at  Mount 
Vernon,  as  being  nearer  the  scene  of  his  labors  than 
his  mother's  residence  ;  but  he  made  her  frequent 
visits,  and  assisted  her  largely  in  the  conduct  of  her 
affairs. 

At  the  age  of  nineteen,  he  received,  from  the  gov- 
ernment of  Virginia,  the  appointment  of  military 
inspector,  with  the  rank  of  major,  and  the  pay  of  one 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds  a  year.  His  military  pro- 
pensities appear  to  have  been  more  rapidly  developed 
by  this  event.  Under  the  tuition  of  some  British 
officers  who  had  served  in  the  recent  war,  he  studied 
tactics,  learned  the  manual  exercise,  and  became 
expert  in  the  use  of  the  sword.  He  read  the  principal 
books  on  the  military  art,  and  joined  practice  to  theory 
as  far  as  circumstances  would  permit. 

But  he  had  scarcely  entered  upon  the  business  of 
his  new  office,  when  he  was  called  to  other  duties. 
Lawrence  Washington  had  been  long  suffering  under 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON.  15 

a  pulmonary  attack,  and  his  disease  was  now  so 
threatening  that  his  medical  advisers  recommended 
him  to  try  the  climate  of  the  West  Indies.  As  it  was 
necessary  that  some  person  should  attend  him,  he 
desired  George  to  be  his  companion,  and  the  two  sot 
sail  for  Barbadoes  in  September,  1751,  uhcre  they 
soon  arrived.  The  change  of  air  produced  a  transient 
alleviation  of  the  patient's  disease,  but  the  unfavorable 
symptoms  soon  returned,  and  he  determined  to  proceed 
to  Bermuda.  George  set  out  for  Virginia,  for  the 
purpose  of  accompanying  the  wife  of  his  brother  to 
that  island,  and,  after  an  absence  of  somewhat  more 
than  four  months,  he  reached  his  home.  During  his 
residence  in  Barbadoes,  he  had  been  seized  with  the 
small  pox,  and  though  the  attack  was  severe,  he  recov- 
ered in  about  three  weeks. 

The  same  habits  which  Washington  had  adopted 
at  home,  attended  him  during  this  expedition.  He 
kept  a  minute  journal  during  his  absence,  which  has 
been  preserved.  From  this  it  appears  that  at  sea  he 
daily  copied  the  log-book,  noted  the  course  of  the 
winds,  the  state  of  the  weather,  the  progress  of  the 
ship,  and  other  incidental  occurrences.  In  the  island 
of  Barbadoes  everything  attracted  his  notice — the 
soil,  agriculture,  fruits,  commerce,  military  force,  for- 
tifications, manners  of  the  people,  municipal  regula- 
tions and  government.  Thus  everything  became  an 
object  of  observation  and  study ;  ever^'  scene  was  a 
book,  from  which  he  was  constantly  adding  to  his 
stock  of  knowledge. 

The  accounts  from  his  brother  in  Bermuda  w<jie  at 
first  flattering ;  but  these   fair  prospects  were    soon 


16  '  GEORGE    WASHINGTON, 

blighted,  and  finding'  no  essential  relief,  he  returned 
to  Virginia,  -where  he  sank  rapidl}^  into  the  grave,  at 
the  early  age  of  thirty-four.  George  was  one  of  his 
executors,  and  was  chiefly  entrusted  with  the  settle- 
ment of  his  large  estate.  These  private  emplojTnents 
occupied  much  of  his  time,  but  they  did  not  draw  him 
from  his  public  duties  as  inspector  or  adjutant-general. 
These  indeed  occupied  a  large  share  of  his  attention, 
and  he  appears  to  have  been  frequently  engaged  in 
instructing  the  militia  officers,  reviewing  companies 
on  parade,  inspecting  arms  and  accoutrements,  and 
establishing  an  uniform  system  of  manoeuvres  and 
discipline. 

Washington  had  now  reached  the  age  of  twenty- 
one,  and  the  time  had  arrived  when  he  was  to  enter 
upon  that  public  career  which  has  immortalized  his 
name.  Intelligence  had  reached  the  governor  of 
Virginia  that  the  French,  who  had  long  occupied  the 
territory  of  Canada,  had  crossed  the  northern  lakes  in 
force,  and  were  about  to  establish  posts  and  erect  forti- 
fications on  the  waters  of  the  Ohio.  It  was  also 
rumored  that  the  Indians  in  that  quarter,  friendly  to 
the  English,  now  began  to  waver  in  their  fidelity;  and 
that  the  hostile  tribes,  encouraged  by  the  French,  exhib- 
ited symptoms  of  open  war.  The  crisis  seemed  to 
demand  immediate  attention. 

Yet  some  time  passed  before  any  active  measures 
were  taken, — during  which  the  French  prosecuted 
their  designs  with  rigor.  Already  had  troops,  with 
munitions  of  war  and  other  supplies,  been  sent  across 
the  lakes,  while  bodies  of  men  had  ascended  the  Mis- 
sissippi from  New  Orleans.     These  several  detach- 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON.  17 

ments  had  united,  and  already  established  themselves 
on  the  southern  banks  of  the  Ohio. 

It  is  a  question  of  some  interest  to  whom  the  lands 
thus  occupied,  belonged,  and  about  wliich  a  contest 
was  now  to  arise,  destined  to  kindle  the  flames  of  war 
throughout  Europe,  and  result  in  severing  from 
France  the  largest  portion  of  her  American  settle- 
ments; yet  a  careful  inquiry  would  probably  leave  us 
in  doubt,  or  bring  us  to  the  conclusion  that  neither  of 
the  contending  parties  had  any  just  claim  to  the  terri- 
tory in  dispute. 

Governor  Dinwiddle,  of  Virginia,  having  received 
orders  from  England  to  build  two  forts  upon  the 
Ohio,  for  the  purpose  of  maintaining  the  British  claim, 
resolved,  as  a  first  step,  to  send  a  commissioner  to 
the  French  agents,  with  authority  to  inquire,  in  due 
form,  into  their  designs  and  proceedings.  This 
important  trust  was  confided  to  the  youthful  Wash- 
ington. He  departed  from  Williamsburg,  October  1st, 
1753.  On  his  route,  he  collected  his  attendants,  who 
amounted  to  seven  persons.  They  were  provided 
with  horses,  tents,  baggage  and  provisions,  suited  to 
the  expedition. 

The  party  of  adventurers  set  boldly  forward  upon 
their  enterprise.  The  whole  length  of  their  journey 
was  about  five  hundred  and  sixty  miles,  and  lay,  for 
the  most  part,  through  an  unbroken  wilderness,  and 
where,  as  yet,  no  traces  of  civilization  Avcro  to  be  found. 
They  were  also  to  traverse  the  lofty  ridges  of  the 
Alleganies,  and  to  pass  through  territories  inhabited 
by  Indian  tribes.  It  is  rare,  indeed,  that  an  enter- 
B  2* 


18  GEOKGE    WASniNGTOX. 

prise  so  bold  and  hazardous,  has  been  conducted  by 
so  youthful  a  leader. 

Some  twenty  miles  below  the  point  where  the 
Monongahela  and  Allegany  unite  to  form  the  Ohio, 
Washington  summoned  a  council  of  the  neighboring 
sachems,  to  whom  he  communicated  the  views  of  the 
governor  of  Virginia.  Attended  by  four  Indians  as 
guides,  he  then  proceeded  on  his  journey;  making  his 
way  over  mountain  and  valley,  crossing  rivers  and 
marshes,  threading  the  tangled  forests,  and,  overcoming 
every  obstacle,  he  at  last  reached  the  head  quarters  of 
the  French  settlements.  Here  he  was  civilly  treated 
by  the  commandant,  ]M.  de  St.  Pierre,  to  whom  he 
delivered  his  message.  While  this  Avas  under  con- 
sideration, he  took  occasion  to  look  around  and 
examine  the  fort.  His  attendants  were  instructed  to 
make  similar  observations.  The  fort  was  situated  on 
French  Creek,  about  fifteen  miles  south  of  Lake  Erie. 
Washington  succeeded  in  taking  an  accurate  plan  of 
it,  and  ascertained  the  number  of  cannon,  canoes  and 
other  articles  belonging  to  the  establishment.  The 
reply  of  M.  de  St.  Pierre  was  that  he  would  communi- 
cate the  substance  of  Governor  Dinwiddle's  letter  to 
the  governor  of  Canada,  under  whose  instructions  he 
acted.  The  terms  in  which  this  was  couched  were 
respectful,  but  it  was  at  the  same  time  uncomplying 
and  determined. 

Winter  was  now  rapidly  approaching,  and  Wash- 
ington, who  had  been  treated  with  great  civility  by 
the  commandant,  and  was  liberally  supplied  by  him 
with  provisions,  set  out  for  his  return.  He  pro- 
ceeded with  his  party  in  a  canoe  to  the  distance  of 


GEOKGE    WASHINGTON.  19 

one  hundiled  and  thirty  miles,  where  he  found  his 
horses,  which  had  been  sent  forward.  Soon  after, 
they  reached  the  Allegany  river,  which  they  expected 
to  cross  on  the  ice.  In  this  they  were  disappointed; 
for  it  was  only  frozen  a  few  yards  from  the  banks. 
After  spending  the  night  upon  the  snow,  with  no 
other  •overing  than  their  blankets,  they  set  about 
making  a  raft.  Having  only  one  miserable  hatchet, 
this  was  not  completed  till  sunset.  The  raft  was  now 
launched,  and  they  set  off'  from  the  shore.  The 
current  of  the  river  was  rapid,  and  large  masses  of  ice 
were  floating  down.  The  raft  was  soon  jammed  in 
between  these,  and  appeared  to  be  on  the  point  of 
sinking.  At  this  moment,  Washington  endeavored 
to  guide  it  with  his  setting  pole,  which,  however,  was 
suddenly  struck  by  the  ice,  and  he  was  jerked  to  a 
considerable  distance  into  the  river.  Exerting  his 
powerful  strength  to  the  utmost,  he  seized  upon  one 
of  the  logs  of  the  raft,  and  recovered  his  position. 
With  their  utmost  efforts,  they  were  unable  to  reach 
the  shore,  and,  as  they  were  now  approaching  an  island, 
they  left  the  raft,  and  waded  to  the  land.  Here  they 
spent  the  night,  suffering  intensely  from  the  cold,  and 
one  of  the  party  having  his  hands  and  feet  frozen.  In 
the  niorning,  the  ice  had  formed  so  as  to  bear  their 
weight,  and  they  crossed  to  the  eastern  bank  of  the 
river  without  accident.  After  various  adventures, 
Washington  arrived  at  Williamsburg,  on  the  16th  of 
January,  and  made  his  report  to  the  governor.  He 
had  been  absent  eleven  Aveeks. 

It  was  now  obvious   that  a  necessity  existed   for 
decisive  measures,  in  order  to  expel  the  French ;  an 


20  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

order  was  therefore  issued  by  the  governor  and  coun- 
cil, for  the  building  of  two  forts  upon  the  Ohio,  and 
the  raising  of  two  hundred  men  for  the  purpose  of 
accomplishing  the  object.  The  command  of  these 
troops  was  given  to  Washington.  Further  measures 
were  also  adopted;  other  troops  were  raised,  and 
Washington  received  the  appointment  of  lieutenant- 
colonel.  At  last,  with  three  small  companies,  he 
proceeded  to  Will's  Creek,  Avhcre  he  learned  that  the 
French  had  captured  a  small  fort  on  the  Ohio,  already 
begun  by  the  English,  under  Captain  Trent.  This  was 
an  open  act  of  hostility,  which  seemed  to  render  his 
position  critical ;  he  therefore  sent  expresses  to  the  gov- 
ernors of  Virginia,  Maryland  and  Pennsylvania,  beg- 
ging for  reinforcements.  At  the  same  time,  he  pushed 
boldly  forward  into  the  wilderness,  occupying  his  men 
in  clearing  and  preparing  the  road  as  they  advanced. 

The  news  soon  arrived  that  a  party  of  French 
troops  was  advancing  upon  the  Virginians.  Not 
knowing  their  number,  Washington  hastened  to  a 
position  called  the  Great  Meadows,  cleared  away  the 
bushes,  threw  up  entrenchments,  and  prepared  for  the 
event.  After  a  short  time,  however,  he  put  himself 
at  the  head  of  forty  men,  and  set  off  to  join  some 
friendly  Indians,  who  Avere  at  the  distance  of  six 
miles,  and  commanded  by  a  chief  called  the  Half- 
king.  The  night  was  dark,  and  the  rain  fell  in 
torrents.  The  party,  however,  pushed  on,  gToping 
their  Avay  through  the  intricacies  of  the  forest,  and 
clambering  over  rocks  and  fallen  trees. 

At  length  they  reached  the  Indian  camp,  and,  being 
joined  by   the  Avarriors  under   the   Half-king,  they 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON.  21 

marched  in  concert  against  the  enemy,  whom  they 
found  in  an  obscure  retreat,  surrounded  by  rocks. 
Washington's  men  immediately  commenced  an  attack, 
and,  after  a  smart  skirmish,  the  French  ceased  to 
.resist.  Their  commander,  M.  de  Joumonvillc,  and 
ten  of  his  men  were  killed,  and  twenty-two  were 
taken  prisoners.  This  event  occurred  on  the  2Sth  of 
May,  1754.  The  prisoners  were  conducted  to  the 
Great  Meadows,  and  thence,  under  a  guard,  to  Gov- 
ernor Dinwiddie.  This  act,  being  one  of  the  first  in 
the  long  and  bloody  war  tliat  followed,  was  severely 
scrutinized  and  loudlj'-  condemned  by  the  French. 
Yet  it  appears  to  have  been  fully  justified  by  the 
circumstances  of  the  time. 

The  western  army  was  soon  increased  to  four  hun- 
dred men,  and  Washington,  foreseeing  that,  as  soon  as 
the  French  at  Fort  Duquesne  received  information  of 
the  capture  of  Joumonville's  party,  they  would  send  a 
force  against  him,  took  the  most  active  measures  to 
enlarge  and  strengthen  the  entrenchments  at  the 
Great  Meadows.  To  the  structure  thus  hastily 
erected,  he  gave  the  name  of  Fort  Necessity.  News 
soon  came  that  the  French  were  reinforced  by  troops 
from  Canada,  and  a  strong  detachment  would  shortly 
be  despatched  against  the  English.  Alarmed  by  the 
prospect  of  coming  hostilities,  the  Indians  gathered  to 
the  fort  from  all  quarters.  Among  them  was  the 
Half-king  and  his  warriors,  Alaquippa,  a  sable  queen 
of  the  forest,  and  other  persons  of  distinction,  with 
numerous  attendants.  These  made  a  heavy  demand 
upon  the  stores  of  Fort  Necessity,  and  embarrassed, 
rather  than  aided,  the  Encrlish  cause.     The  Indians, 


22  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

throughout  the  war,  being  ever  greedy  of  presents, 
making  large  requisitions  for  supphes.  and  agitated 
by  constant  jealousies,  were  eVer  a  source  of  anxiety 
and  vexation.  They  were  sometimes  useful  as  scouts, 
but  never  effective  in  battle.  They  hung  around  the 
army  to  be  fed  and  feasted,  yet  were  always  ready 
to  sell  their  allegiance  to  the  highest  bidder.  Encum- 
bered by  these  allies,  and  contending  with  jealousies 
and  divisions  among  his  troops  ;  far  removed  from  aid. 
and  threatened  with  the  appearance  of  a  powerful 
enemy,  Washington's  position  demanded  the  highest 
exercise  of  a  soldier's  courage,  prudence  and  decision 
— and  happily  these  were  at  his  command. 

He  had  advanced  some  miles  toward  the  Monon- 
gahela  river,  but  he  now  determined  to  retreat  and 
make  a  stand  at  Fort  Necessity.  This  position,  lying 
near  the  foot  of  Laurel  Hill,  and  a  few  yards  from  the 
great  Cumberland  road,  was  now  strengthened,  and 
the  most  active  exertions  were  made  to  prepare  for 
the  enemy.  On  the  morning  of  the  3d  of  July,  a 
Vv^ounded  sentinel  came  in,  giving  information  that 
the  enemy,  nine  hundred  strong,  were  at  hand.  At 
eleven  o'clock,  they  approached  the  fort,  and  the 
action  began.  The  rain  fell  heavily,  but  the  French 
and  Indians,  sheltered  by  the  trees  around,  poured 
their  shot  upon  the  little  army  within  the  garrison. 
This  was  bravely  returned,  and  though  the  trenches 
of  the  fort  were  filled  with  water,  and  many  of  the 
guns  of  the  English  incapable  of  being  discharged, 
the  little  band,  with  Spartan  valor,  fought  on  till  night 
closed  the  scene.  The  action  had  continued  for  nine 
hours,  when  the  French  requested  a  parley.     Nego- 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON.  23 

tiation  followed,  and  Washington  agreed  to  surrende* 
the  fort,  taking,  however,  his  men,  arms  and  baggag*- 
with  him.  Agreeably  to  these  stipulations,  he  marche/ 
the  next  morning  for  the  station  at  "Will's  Crock 
Leaving  his  men  at  this  place,  he  proceeded  to  Vir 
ginia,  and  had  the  satisfaction  of  receiving  the  thank" 
of  the  legislature  of  the  colony,  as  well  as  the  applause 
of  the  c(jj.mtr3'. 

The  zeal  of  Governor  Dinwiddic  was  greater  tha» 
his  discretion.  He  therefore  proceeded  to  adop' 
impracticable  schemes,  and  finally  established  »■ 
system  which  placed  the  officers  of  the  Virginian  troopr 
below  those  of  the  same  rank  holding  commissionr 
fram  the  king.  Such  was  its  operation,  that  Colone> 
Washington  had  but  the  rank  of  a  captain,  and  wa> 
placed  beneath  officers  whom  he  had  before  com 
manded.  To  such  a  degradation  he  could  not  submit . 
he  therefore  resignT.d  his  commission,  left  the  army, 
and  spent  the  winter  in  retirement. 

In  the  spring.  General  Braddock  arrived  from  Grea; 
Britain  Avith  two  fine  regiments,  and  invited  Wash 
ington  to  take  part  in  the  coming  campaign  againsf 
the  French  at  the  Avest,  holding  his  former  rank,  an^ 
making  part  of  the  general's  military  family.  To  thi» 
he  acceded,  and  thus,  as  a  volunteer,  he  participat'ea 
in  one  of  the  most  memorable  and  disastrous  events 
of  our  early  historA^  Braddock  was  brave,  but  self- 
willed  and  rash.  He  marched  into  the  western  Avilds 
with  a  powerful  and  well-appointed  army,  confident 
himself  of  victory,  and  exciting  throughout  the  country 
the  liveliest  expectations  of  success. 

Early  in  July  he  approached  Fort  Duquesne,  now 


24  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

Pittsburg,  the  object  of  his  expedition.  On  the  9th 
of  the  month,  the  troops  had  crossed  the  river  Monon- 
gahela,  and  now  moved  along  its  southern  margin. 
It  was  a  brave  spectacle.  Their  arms  glittered  in  the 
sun,  and  their  prospects  were  bright  as  their  wea- 
pons. Washington  often  said,  in  after  years,  that  he 
had  never  seen  so  imposing  a  scene  as  was  exhibited 
by  that  gallant  army,  pouring  in  their  proud  array, 
tJirough  the  stately  forests,  upon  that  lovely  summer 
morning.  Alas,  how  soon  was  their  pride  humbled ; 
their  joy  turned  to  sorrow  and  mourning! 

The  English  army  now  amounted  to  near  fifteen 
hundred  men.  About  one  o'clock,  their  advanced 
parties  were  suddenly  startled  with  musketry,  dis- 
charged from  amid  the  rocks  and  bushes  around. 
They  were  filled  Avith  instant  consternation,  for  no 
enemy  was  in  sight.  They  fired  in  turn,  but  at 
random  and  without  effect.  They  soon  gave  way, 
and  fell  back  upon  the  artillery  and  other  portions  of 
the  army,  striking  into  the  whole  mass  a  fatal  panic. 
The  general  behaved  with  the  utmost  courage,  and 
the  officers  strove  to  rally  their  men.  But  all  was 
confusion.  They  continued  for  nearly  three  hours 
in  this  fearful  condition,  the  troops  huddling  together 
in  confused  groups,  sometimes  firing  at  random,  and 
shooting  down  their  own  troops.  The  Virginians 
adopted  the  Indian  mode  of  fighting,  taking  shelter 
behind  trees  and  rocks,  and  did  much  execution;  but 
Braddock,  with  strange  infatuation,  forbade  this,  and 
sought  to  rally  his  soldiers  in  platoons,  as  if  they  were 
fighting  upon  the  smooth,  level  plains  of  Flanders. 
The  enemy  continued  their  deadly  fire,  and  though 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON.  25 

unseen,  the  English  soldiers  fell  like  helpless  deer 
before  them.  More  than  half  the  gallant  army  that 
had  crossed  the  river  that  morning,  so  high  in  hope, 
so  full  of  bright  expectation,  were  either  killed  or 
wounded.  Braddock  himself  received  a  mortal 
wound,  and  many  of  his  best  oflicers  fell  by  his 
side. 

Washington  had  forewarned  the  general  of  the 
dangers  he  had  to  meet  and  the  peculiar  m.ode  of 
warfare  that  would  be  adopted.  But  his  counsel  was 
rejected  with  disdain.  Still,  in  the  battle,  he  behav^ed 
with  the  greatest  courage  and  resolution.  The  other 
aids  were  killed,  and  the  general's  orders  devolved 
on  him  alone.  He  rode  fearlessly  in  every  direction, 
and  thus  became  a  mark  to  the  sharp-shooters  that 
lay  ambushed  around  him.  His  companions  were 
swept  away,  but  he  moved  unhurt  amid  the  shower 
of  death.  Two  horses  were  shot  under  him ;  four 
bullets  passed  through  his  coat,  and  every  other 
officer,  on  horseback,  was  either  killed  or  wounded, — 
but  he  was  saved !  Surely,  there  was  a  Providence 
watching  over  him  that  day,  preserving  and  fitting 
him  for  the  great  events  over  which  he  was  afterwards 
to  preside. 

Jxi  this  fatal  battle,  the  English  lost  nearly  seven  hun- 
dred and  fifty  men  in  killed  and  wounded;  of  whom 
nearly  sixty  were  officers.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
enemy's  loss  was  small.  Their  force  amouated  to 
eight  hundred,  of  whom  six  hundred  were  Indians 
According  to  their  returns,  not  more  than  forty  were 
killed.  AVashington  took  command  of  the  remnant  of 
the  army,  and  conducted  the  retreat  with  the  greates' 
VI.— 3 


26  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

ability.  The  wounded  general  was  borne  alont,,  but 
he  expired  on  the  fourth  day,  and  was  buried  near 
Fort  Necessity.  The  troops  at  length  reached  Fort 
Cumberland,  and  Washington,  no  longer  connected 
with  the  service,  retired  to  Mount  Vernon. 

Though  the  heaviest  denunciations  fell  upon  Brad- 
dock,  Washington's  character,  as  a  gallant  and  able 
soldier,  was  established  by  these  events.  His  wisdom, 
courage  and  resources  had  shone  conspicuously,  and 
were  applauded  by  the  whole  country.  His  mer- 
its were  acknowledged  by  the  Virginia  legislature, 
and  the  sum  of  three  hundred  pounds  was  grant- 
ed for  his  services.  He  was  strongly  pressed  to 
continue  in  public  life,  and,  August  14,  1755,  he 
was  appointed  to  the  command  of  the  Virginia  troops. 
Being  now  established  in  a  command  of  high  respon- 
sibility, he  applied  himself  to  the  discharge  of  its 
duties  with  that  union  of  energ)''  and  circumspection 
which  marked  his  character.  For  several  years  he 
continued  to  devote  himself  to  the  service  of  his  coun- 
try, and  at  last,  in  1758,  he  resigned  his  commission 
and  retired  to  private  life.  Though  the  actions  he 
had  performed  were  not  splendid,  they  were  arduous 
and  useful,  and  extorted,  as  well  from  the  country  as 
the  officers  and  soldiers,  the  most  decided  marks  of 
respect  and  approbation. 

On  the  6th  January,  1759,  he  was  married  to  Mrs. 
]\Iartha  Custis,  widow  of  John  Parke  Custis,  and  dis- 
tinguished alike  for  her  beauty,  accomplishments  and 
wealth.  By  this  marriage  he  received  a  large  acces- 
sion of  property,  which,  added  to  the  estate  at  Mount 
Vernon,  and  the  fortune  hp  had  otherwise  in  posses- 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON.  27 

sion,  constituted  an  ample  fortune.  To  the  duties  and 
pleasures  of  private  life,  Washington  now  devoted 
himself.  He  was  happy  in  his  marriage;  the  union 
subsisted  for  forty  years.  The  character  of  his  amia- 
ble lady  has  ever  been  a  theme  of  praise.  She  was 
courteous,  yet  dignified ;  remarkable  for  her  deeds  of 
charity  and  her  unaffected  piety,  and  for  discharging, 
in  an  exemplary  manner,  alike  the  duties  of  every 
private  as  well  as  every  public  station. 

Fifteen  years  now  passed,  during  which  Washing- 
ton was  constantly  a  member  of  the  Virginia  House 
of  Burgesses,  being  returned  by  a  large  majority  of 
votes  at  every  election.  With  his  accustomed  punc- 
tuality, and  while  his  own  mind  was  expanding  and 
ripening  by  means  of  study  and  reflection,  he  was 
exercising  a  powerful  influence  in  the  legislature  by 
his  sound  judgment,  his  quick  perception  and  his 
straight-forward  sincerity. 

In  April,  1764,  he  took  up  his  residence  perma- 
nently at  Mount  Vernon,  with  no  higher  aim  than  to 
cultivate  the  social  virtues,  fulfll  his  duties  as  a  citizen, 
and  sustain  the  dignity  of  a  country  gentleman.  For 
these  simple,  yet  happy  pursuits,  he  was  admirably 
fitted,  and,  even  when  his  fame  was  highest,  he  seems 
to  have  yearned  for  the  comfort  and  content  of  his 
country  home. 

It  is  pleasant  to  pause  a  moment  and  contemplate 
a  great  man,  while  engaged  in  the  common,  yet 
peaceful  pursuits  of  life.  Washington  was  now  a 
planter,  and  it  appears  that  he  was  as  industrious 
and  systematic  here,  as  in  the  more  responsible 
stations  he  had  occupied.     He  was  addicted  to  hospi- 


2S  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

tality,  and  the  most  distinguished  men  in  Virginia 
were  his  frequent  guests.  He  was  fond  of  amuse- 
ments, and  pursued  tlie  sports  of  fishing  and  the 
chase,  with  avidity.  He  was,  at  the  same  time,  ready 
to  make  himself  useful  to  all  around  him ;  he  took 
upon  himself  various  trusts,  acted  as  an  arbitrator  in 
settling  disputes,  took  part  in  parish  affairs,  and  was 
a  vestryman  in  the  church, — in  all  which  stations  he 
displayed  a  disinterestedness,  candor,  and  good  faith, 
which  secured  the  affection  and  respect  of  his  neigh- 
bors. 

As  the  war  of  the  revolution  approached,  Washing- 
ton watched  public  events  with  a  scrutinizing  eye. 
He  sympathized  with  the  people  of  the  country  in 
their  opposition  to  British  encroachments  on  our 
rights,  and  participated  in  the  various  measures  of  the 
Virginia  legislature,  to  resist  them.  He  was  also  a 
member  of  the  first  congress,  which  assembled  at  Phil- 
adelphia September  5,  1774.  When  Patrick  Henry, 
who  was  a  member  of  this  body,  was  asked  who  he 
thought  the  greatest  man  in  it, — he  replied,  "  If  you 
speak  of  eloquence,  Mr.  Eutledge,  of  South  Carolina, 
is  by  far  the  greatest  orator ;  but  if  you  speak  of  solid 
information  and  sound  judgment.  Colonel  Washington 
is  unquestionably  the  greatest  man  on  that  floor." 

The  business  of  congress  being  over,  Washington 
returned  to  the  occupations  of  his  farm ;  but  the  next 
year  he  was  a  member  of  the  second  continental 
congress,  and,  in  June,  he  was  appointed  to  the 
chief  command  of  the  army  that  had  assembled  at 
Boston.  Washington,  who  had  by  no  means  solicited 
this  elevated,  but  fearful  trust,  received  it  with  modest 


GEORGK    WASHINGTON.  29 

(liflideiice,  at  the  same  time  pledging  himself  to  exert 
his  utmost  efforts  in  behalf  of  his  country  dunng  the 
impending  struggle. 

His  commission  was  dated  June  19th.  He  made 
immediate  preparations  for  his  departure,  and  arrived 
at  Cambridge  July  2d.  He  took  command  of  the 
army  on  the  next  day.  It  is  not  easy  to  conceive  of 
a  situation  more  perplexing  than  that  in  which  he 
was  now  placed.  The  battles  of  Lexington  and 
Bunker  Hill  had  been  fought,  and  the  people  had 
flocked  from  all  quarters  to  the  rescue.  They  came, 
bringing  such  weapons  as  they  possessed.  They  had 
collected  to  the  amount  of  several  thousands,  but  they 
were  without  discipline,  and  almost  entirely  destitute 
of  efficient  arms  ;  they  were  poorly  provided  with  mu- 
nitions of  war  and  the  means  of  support.  At  the  same 
time,  the  British  forces  held  possession  of  Boston, 
where  they  were  well  fed,  and  amply  supplied  with 
military  stores  and  equipments. 

Unappalled,  however,  by  the  difficulties  of  his  situa- 
tion, Washington  applied  himself,  with  sleepless  vigi- 
lance and  zeal,  to  his  duties.  Under  the  magic 
influence  of  these  efforts,  order  seemed  to  grow  out  of 
confusion,  strength  spring  from  weakness,  and  confi- 
dence to  take  the  place  of  distrust. 

When  Washington  took  the  command  of  the  army, 
it  was  his  expectation  that  he  should  be  able  to  visit 
his  home  during  the  winter.  But  this  he  found 
impracticable.  Accordingly,  he  A\Tote  to  his  wife, 
and  she  joined  him  at  head  quarters  in  December, 
where  she  remained  till  spring ;  and  it  appears  that 
this  was  her  practice  during  the  war.  She  passed 
3* 


30  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

the  "winters  with  him  in  camp,  and  returned,  at  the 
opening  of  the  campaign,  to  Mount  Vernon.  For 
eight  years  and  a  half  he  never  visited  ]\Iount  Vernon 
but  once,  and  then  casually,  on  his  way  to  YorktoAvn. 

As  he  was  unable  to  visit  his  estates,  he  gave  them 
in  charge  to  his  relative,  Lund  Washington,  who 
appears  to  have  executed  the  trust  with  diligence  and 
fidelity.  He  was  accustomed  to  write  to  the  general, 
two  or  three  times  a  month,  giving  him  an  account 
of  everything  that  happened.  In  reply,  Washington, 
on  one  occasion,  wrote  him  as  follows :  "  Let  the  hos- 
pitality of  the  house,  with  respect  to  the  poor,  be  kept 
up.  Let  no  one  go  hungry  away.  If  any  of  this 
kind  of  people  be  in  want  of  corn,  supply  their  neces- 
sities, provided  it  does  not  encourage  them  in  idleness ; 
and  I  have  no  objection  to  your  giving  my  money  in 
charity,  to  the  amount  of  forty  or  fifty  pounds  a  year, 
when  you  think  it  well  bestowed.  What  I  mean  by 
having  no  objection,  is,  that  it  is  my  desire  that  it 
should  be  done.  You  are  to  consider  that  neither 
my  wife  nor  myself,  is  in  the  way  to  do  these  good 
offices.  In  all  other  respects,  I  recommend  it  to  you, 
and  have  no  doubt  of  your  observing  the  greatest 
economy  and  frugality;  as  I  suppose  you  know,  that 
I  do  not  get  a  farthing  for  my  services  here  more  than 
my  expenses.  It  becomes  necessary,  therefore,  for 
me  to  be  saving  at  home." 

We  shall  not  follow  Washington  through  the 
minuter  details  of  the  war.  It  will  be  sufficient  to 
state  a  few  of  the  leading  events.  In  March,  1776 
having  gained  Dorchester  heights,  and  thus  obtained  a 
position  to  annoy  the  British  in  Boston,  the  latter  were 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON.  31 

compelled  to  evacuate  the  place,  and  the  American 
army  entered  it  in  triumph. 

"Washington  now  proceeded  to  New  York,  which 
it  was  apparent  was  to  be  the  object  of  attack.  Here 
lie  devoted  himself  to  the  strengthening  of  the 
defences.  On  the  27th  of  August,  the  two  armies 
met  upon  Long  Island,  near  the  city,  and  the  Americans 
were  defeated  with  great  loss.  With  consummate  skill, 
Washington  withdrew  his  forces,  by  night,  saving 
his  military  stores  and  artillery.  For  two  days  and 
two  nights  he  Avas  on  horseback  superintending  the 
retreat. 

In  September,  he  was  compelled  to  evacuate  New 
York,  and  move  northward,  making  a  stand  at  White 
Plains.  Here  an  engagement  took  place,  and  a  por- 
tion of  the  American  forces  were  driven  back.  He 
was  now  obliged  to  retreat  into  New  Jersey.  His 
situation  was  gloomy  in  the  extreme.  The  militia 
had  proved  ineffective  in  battle,  and  the  army  was 
dwindled  to  a  shadow.  But  that  steadfast  firmness 
which  constituted  one  of  the  prominent  features  of  his 
character,  never  for  a  moment  forsook  him.  Undis- 
mayed by  the  perils  which  threatened  him, — when 
other  hearts  wavered, — ^^vhen  congress  was  shaken, — 
he  did  not  for  a  moment  despair,  nor  relax  his  exer- 
tions, nor  omit  anything  that  could  obstruct  the  progi-ess 
of  the  enemy  or  improve  his  own  condition.  Conscious 
of  the  rectitude  of  our  cause,  he  never  seemed  to 
doubt  of  final  success.  Whenever  he  appeared  before 
his  harassed  and  enfeebled  army,  his  countenance 
was  serene,  his  demeanor  unembarrassed.     He  be- 


32  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

trayed   no   fear  himself,  and  his  perfect  self-posses- 
sion inspired  confidence  in  the  hosoms  of  others. 

In  his  retreat  through  New  Jersey,  Washington 
was  followed  by  the  British  army,  flushed  with 
victory,  highly  disciplined,  and  perfectly  equipped, 
while  his  own  troops  were  dispirited,  destitute,  and 
daily  decreasing  by  the  expiration  of  their  terms  of 
service.  In  December,  the  British  general  made  an 
attempt  to  get  possession  of  a  number  of  boats  for  the 
transportation  of  his  forces  over  the  Delaware;  but 
having  failed,  he  went  into  winter  quarters. 

Feeling  the  necessity  of  some  eflbrt  to  revive  the 
drooping  spirits  of  the  country,  and  having  received 
some  effective  reinforcements,  Washington  resolved 
upon  the  bold  attempt  to  attack  the  British  posts  on 
the  Delaware.  Being  on  the  western  side  of  that 
river,  he  crossed  it  by  night,  and,  coming  suddenly 
upon  Trenton,  captured  a  thousand  Hessians,  belong- 
ing to  the  British  army  This  occurred  December 
26th. 

After  this  success,  Washington  remained  a 
while  at  Trenton ;  but,  on  the  3d  of  January,  he 
attacked  three  British  regiments  at  Princeton,  killed 
more  than  an  hundred  men,  and  captured  three  hun- 
dred prisoners.  Throughout  the  battle,  he  appeared 
in  the  hottest  parts  of  the  combat,  giving  orders  and 
animating  his  troops.  These  successful  operations 
broke  up  the  British  posts  upon  the  Delaware,  revived 
the  flagging  hopes  of  the  country,  and  increased  the 
fame  of  the  American  commander.  At  the  moment 
that  his  army  was  thought  to  be  on  the  verge  of 
annihilation,  in  the  face  of  a  victorious  enemy,  he 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON.  33 

commenced  a  scries  of  oflcnsivc  operations,  which 
disconcerted  the  plans  of  the  foe,  and  seemed  sud- 
denly to  convert  disaster  into  triumph.  Such  results, 
under  such  circumstances,  afford  the  most  conclusive 
evidence  of  the  highest  order  of  military  talent. 

The  campaign  of  1777,  imposed  the  most  arduous 
duties  upon  Washington.  Various  battles  were  fought, 
and,  on  the  10th  of  September,  the  Americans  were 
defeated  in  the  memorable  engagement  of  the  Brandy- 
wine  ;  this  opened  the  way  of  the  British  to  Phila- 
delphia, and  they  entered  it  on  the  26th. 

The  following  winter,  Washington  took  up  his 
quarters  at  Valley  Forge,  twenty  miles  north  of  Phil- 
adelphia. Here  the  sufferings  of  the  army  were 
excessive,  from  the  intense  severity  of  the  season,  and 
want  of  the  comforts  of  life.  Such  was  the  despon- 
dence of  the  country  at  this  time,  that  the  incessant 
labors,  the  unyielding  patriotism,  the  steadfast  fidelity, 
the  consummate  abilities  of  Washington,  could  not 
shield  him  from  complaint — from  the  imputation 
of  want  of  energy,  as  indicated  by  want  of  success. 
Consequently,  an  intrigue  was  set  on  foot  for  super- 
seding him  in  the  command  of  the  army,  and  giving 
it  to  Gates,  the  victor  of  Saratoga.  But  to  weaken 
his  hold  upon  the  confidence  and  affection  of  the  great 
body  of  the  people  and  the  army,  was  found  impossi- 
ble, and  even  the  troops  Avho  had  conquered  under 
Gates,  received  the  idea  of  the  change  with  indigna- 
tion. The  machinations  of  his  enemies  were  frus- 
trated without  any  efforts  on  his  part,  and  only  did 
injury  to  themselves;  nor  did  they  make  any  undue 
irnpression  upon  Washington's  steady  mind,  or  serve 
c 


34  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

in  any  way  to  change  his  measures.  His  sensibilities 
were  for  his  country,  and  not  for  himself.  What  real 
greatness  of  soul  did  he  evince  at  this  trying  period ! 

The  British  evacuated  Philadelphia,  in  June,  1778. 
They  retreated  upon  New  York,  through  New  Jersey, 
followed  by  Washington,  who  brought  them  to  action 
on  the  24th  of  the  month,  at  Monmouth.  The  day 
was  excessively  hot,  and  the  battle  was  severely  con- 
tested. The  Americans  did  not  gain  a  decided  vic- 
tory, yet  the  result  was  favorable,  as  the  British 
retreated  the  ensuing  night,  and  the  spirits  of  the 
country,  and  especially  of  the  army,  received  a  favor- 
able impulse.  It  is  said  that  Washington  never 
appeared  to  greater  advantage  than  in  this  battle. 
His  calmness,  his  courage,  his  admirable  dispositions 
exercised  the  most  powerful  influence,  and  determined 
the  fortunate  results  of  the  day. 

From  this  period  to  the  siege  of  Yorktown  no  inci- 
dent, calling  for  particular  mention,  occurred  in  Wash- 
ington's career.  He  remained  in  the  neighborhood 
of  New  York,  watching  the  enemy  and  taking  every 
measure  for  the  welfare  of  the  country,  without  being 
able  to  perform  any  striking  exploit.  He  had  to  con- 
tend with  difficulties,  the  mastering  of  which  required 
higher  qualities  than  are  necessary  to  gain  a  brilliant 
victory.  His  soldiers  could  scarcely  be  kept  from 
perishing  with  cold  and  hunger,  or  from  dispersing  and 
living  on  plunder.  They  were  daily  leavmg  the 
service ;  some  regiments  mutinied,  and  others  revolted 
and  marched  home ;  at  the  same  time  the  most 
urgent  requisitions  for  recruits  proved  unavailing. 
Nothing  could  be  looser  and  more  precarious  than  the 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON.  35 

thread  by  which  the  army  was  kept  together,  and,  in 
any  other  hands  than  those  to  which  it  was  entrusted, 
it  must  inevitably  have  been  broken. 

In  1781,  Washington  had  planned  a  grand  enter- 
prise against  New  York,  in  conjunction  with  the 
French  commander,  the  Count  de  Rochambeau.  But 
various  circumstances  concurred  to  alter  his  views. 
Wliile  he  amused  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  the  British 
commander  at  New  York,  with  the  expectation  of  an 
assault,  he  suddenly  marched  to  the  south  for  the  pur- 
pose of  cooperating  with  the  French  in  an  attack 
upon  Lord  Cornwallis,  who  was  stationed  at  Yorktown. 
with  an  army  of  seven  thousand  men.  The  siege  com- 
menced on  the  2Sth  of  September,  and,  on  the  19th  of 
October,  after  severe  fighting.  Lord  Cornwallis  was 
compelled  to  surrender.  His  entire  garrison,  together 
with  the  ships,  boats  and  munitions  of  Avar  were  deliv- 
ered up  to  the  conquering  army. 

This  splendid  victory  put  a  finishing  stroke  to  the 
war.  On  the  2Dth  of  November,  1783,  a  treaty  of 
peace  with  Britain  having  been  ratified,  the  English 
forces  evacuated  New  York,  and  ^Vashington  entered 
that  city,  attended  by  a  splendid  retinue.  On  the  4th 
of  December,  he  took  a  solemn  and  affecting  farewell 
of  the  principal  officers  of  the  army,  and,  proceeding 
to  Annapolis,  where  congress  was  then  in  session,  he 
resigned  in  form,  to  that  body,  the  commission  he  had 
so  long  and  so  gloriously  borne.  Carrying  with 
him  the  gratitude  of  his  country  and  the  admiration 
of  the  world,  he  retired  to  private  life. 

Several  years  now  passed,  in  which  Washington 
devoted  himself  to  his  farm,  to  the  claims  of  hospi- 


36  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

tality  and  charity,  and  to  the  sustaining  of  a  large  cor- 
respondence. He  sought  to  restore  his  lands,  exhausted 
during  the  war ;  he  adopted  a  new  plan  for  a  rotation 
of  crops,  and  he  spent  much  time  in  setting  out  trees. 
His  house  at  Mount  Vernon  was  thronged  with  vis- 
itors from  all  parts  of  tlie  world  ;  many  brought  letters 
of  introduction  from  La  Fayette,  Rochambeau  and 
de  Grasse.  Some  even  crossed  the  Atlantic  to  see 
him ;  and  he  was  visited  from  all  parts  of  the  United 
States.  All  these  persons  were  received  with  the 
utmost  kindness  and  attention. 

His  correspondence  Avas  very  extensive.  He  had 
letters  from  every  country  in  Europe,  and  from  all  parts 
of  the  United  States.  Some  of  these  were  upon 
public  affairs,  and  others  were  letters  of  friendship. 
He  kept  copies  of  most  of  his  letters,  not  only  at  this 
period,  but  during  his  whole  life.  These  furnish  a 
record  not  only  of  his  thoughts  and  actions,  but  of  his 
motives,  and  constitute  in  themselves  a  full  record  of 
his  life.  They  are  finely  written  in  point  of  style, 
and  are  uniformly  marked  with  justice,  wisdom,  and 
humanity.  There  has  perhaps  never  been  a  human 
life  more  fully  laid  open  to  the  public,  than  that  of 
Washington  in  his  correspondence,  and  not  one  which 
is  at  the  same  time  so  spotless  and  so  full  of  action. 

His  charities  were  numerous,  though  usually  un- 
seen. He  was  particularly  interested  in  the  encour- 
agement of  education.  During  many  years,  he  gave 
fifty  pounds,  annually,  for  the  instruction  of  indigen 
children  in  Alexandria ;  and,  by  his  will,  he  left  a  lega 
cy  of  four  thousand  dollars,  the  net  income  of  which 
was  to  be  used  for  the  same  benevolent  object,  forever 


GEORGE    WASniNGTON.  37 

Several  instances  are  known  in  wJiicli  he  offered  to 
pay  the  expenses  of  young  men  through  their  col- 
legiate course.  Thus  occupied,  his  hours  flowed 
happily  on,  and  we  may  look  to  this  period  as  tlxit 
which  afforded  him  more  gratification  than  any  other. 

In  17S7,  Wasliington  was  chosen  as  one  of  the 
delegates  of  Virginia,  to  the  convention  to  be  held  at 
Philadelphia,  to  revise  the  federal  system.  He  was 
unanimously  chosen  the  president  of  that  body,  and 
no  member  more  heartily  approved  ihe  constitution 
which  they  formed,  and  which  now,  for  more  than  fifty 
years,  has  formed  the  basis  of  our  national  govern- 
ment. 

When  the  new  constitution  was  about  to  go  into 
operation,  all  eyes  were  turned  upon  Yv^ashington  to  fill 
the  first  office  in  the  gift  of  the  people,  Avith  affectionate 
confidence,  and  a  desire  which  could  not  be  resisted. 
The  animosities  of  parties  could  not  deprive  him  of  a 
single  vote.  The  day  of  election  came,  and  George 
Washington  was  chosen,  by  the  unanimous  voice  of 
the  electors,  the  first  president  of  the  United  States. 

In  April,  1789,  Washington,  having  received  official 
notice  of  his  election,  set  out  for  New  York,  where  con- 
gress was  then  in  session.  His  journey  from  Mount 
Vernon  to  the  place  of  his  destination  had  the  air  of 
a  triumphal  procession.  Everywhere  he  was  greeted 
by  the  citizens,  who  flocked  in  crowds  to  see  the 
saviour  of  their  country,  and  ofTer  him  their  homage. 

He  delivered  his  inaugural  address  on  the  30th  of 
April,  1789,  and,  throughout  his  administration,  he 
acted  up  to  the  principles  and  promises  therein  con- 
tained. As  before  in  his  military  capacity,  so  now  in 
VI. — i 


38  GEORGE    WASIirNGTON. 

his  civil,  he  declined  receiving  any  compensation 
Dej^ond  his  actual  expenditures  in  his  official  char- 
acter. 

Soon  after  he  entered  upon  the  duties  of  the  pres- 
idency, Washington  resolved  to  make  a  tour  to  the 
eastern  states.  He  set  out  in  October,  1789,  and 
proceeded  in  his  own  carriage,  by  way  of  New  Haven, 
Hartford,  Worcester  and  Boston,  to  Portsmouth  in 
New  Hampshire.  Full  of  enthusiasm  inspired  by 
his  virtues  and  his  fame,  the  people  flocked  in  thou- 
sands to  greet  him  with  acclamations  of  joy,  and 
testify  their  respect  and  veneration.  Persons  of  all 
ranks  and  conditions, — men,  women  and  children — the 
tottering  infant,  the  crutched  soldier,  the  gray-haired 
patriarch, — assembled  from  far  and  near,  at  the  cross- 
ings of  the  roads,  and  other  public  places, — happy  to 
set  their  eyes  upon  the  form  of  Washington. 

The  journey  was  in  all  respects  satisfactory  to 
the  president.  He  was  gratified  with  the  evidences 
afforded  of  the  strong  attachment  of  the  people  to 
himself;  of  the  reviving  prosperity  of  tlie  country, 
and  that  the  government  was  gaining  favor  in  the 
public  mind.  He  was  happy  to  see  that  the  ghastly 
marks  of  war  had  almost  disappeared — that  ample 
harvests  were  springing  up  under  the  hand  of  culti- 
vation ;  that  manufactures  were  increasing,  commerce 
becoming  more  extended,  and  society,  in  all  its  inter- 
ests, acquiring  an  aspect  of  peace  and  prosperity. 
After  an  absence  of  two  months,  he  returned  to  New 
York. 

John  Adams  of  Massachusetts,  an  ardent  friend 
and  eloquent  champion  of  American  liberty,  and  who 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON.  39 

had  been  a  distinguished  member  of  the  continental 
congress,  had  been  chosen  vice-president.  In  organ- 
izing his  cabinet,  Washington  selected  Alexander 
Hamilton,  of  New  York,  as  secretary  of  the  treasury, 
Thomas  Jefferson,  of  Virginia,  secretary  of  state, 
Henry  Knox,  secretary  of  war,  and  Edmund  Ran- 
dolph, of  Virginia,  attorney  general,  John  Jay,  of 
New  York,  was  appointed  chief  justice.  Associated 
with  these  great  men,  he  commenced  his  administra- 
tion. 

The  duties  of  the  new  government  Avere  great 
indeed.  The  country  was  embarrassed  with  a  debt 
of  nearly  a  hundred  millions.  The  nation  had  been 
impoverished  and  desolated  by  war.  The  morals  of 
the  people  had  been  corrupted  by  the  vices  which  are 
engendered  in  armies.  The  bands  of  society  had 
been  loosened  or  sundered;  the  conflicting  jealousies 
of  thirteen  republics  were  agitating  the  whole  mass  of 
•society. 

To  establish  a  new  government  under  such  circum 
stances,  when  the  very  foundations  of  society  seemed 
to  be  yet  rocking  with  the  recent  earthquake;  to 
bring  order  out  of  confusion;  to  shape  the  intricate 
machinery  of  the  new  republic,  and  make  all  parts 
work  harmoniously; — this  required  not  only  the 
highest  efforts  of  genius,  but  the  utmost  sagacity  of 
wisdom ;  yet  the  result  has  proved  that  the  men 
brought  to  the  task  were  competent  to  the  stupendous 
undertaking. 

The  new  government  went  at  once  into  full  opera- 
tion, and,  doubtless,  the  reverence,  the  confidence,  the 
affection  for  "Washington,  entertained  by  the  entire 


40  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

nation,  contribvitcd,  more  than  any  other  circumstance, 
to  this  propitious  course  of  events.  Under  the  guid- 
ance of  any  other  hand,  it  is  probable  that  the  great 
political  engine,  fabricated  with  so  much  care  and 
skill,  had  rushed  at  once  into  anarchy  and  confusion. 
The  great  name,  the  fair  fame  of  Washington  were 
doubtless  as  important  to  the  country  in  this  time  of 
peace,  as  had  been  his  soldierly  qualities  in  time  of 
war.  He  was  called  the  father  of  his  country.  How 
potent  the  spell  to  subdue  fretful  and  selfish  passions, 
exerted  by  that  magic  title !  How  great,  how  benefi- 
cent the  power  that  lies  in  a  good  name ! 

In  discharging  one  of  the  most  delicate  duties  of 
his  position — that  of  appointment  or  nomination  to 
office — Washington  adopted  the  most  wise  and  patri- 
otic rules.  He  determined  in  no  degree  to  give  a 
preference  on  account  of  the  ties  of  family  relation- 
ship, and  to  have  always  in  view  three  things — fitness 
for  the  proposed  station;  claims  arising  from  former 
services ;  and  local  position,  so  as  to  distribute  the 
offices  equally  over  the  country.  In  practice,  he  fol- 
lowed these  principles,  and  here,  as  in  everything 
else,  set  an  example  worthy  of  observance  by  his  suc- 
cessors. 

In  August,  17S9,  the  mother  of  Washington  died 
at  the  age  of  eighty-two.  He  had  seen  her  a  short  time 
before  he  entered  upon  the  duties  of  the  presidency. 
She  was  sinking  under  disease,  and  he  foresaw  the 
issue.  He  took  an  affecting  leave  of  her,  and  when 
he  heard  the  news  of  her  departure,  he  mourned,  yet 
with  gratitude  that  Providence  had  given  him  such  a 
parent,   and   spared   her   so   long.     She   was   indeed 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON.  41 

a  superior  woman;  and  we  and  the  world  at  large 
are  doubtless  greatly  indebted  to  her  good  influences, 
in  shaping  the  character  of  her  son  by  favorable  im- 
pressions in  his  youth — for  such  a  boon  as  was 
bestowed  in  him.  Kow  great  is  the  power  of  a 
mother  for  good  or  evil!  If  Washington  was  in 
some  essential  degree  the  result  of  a  mother's  training 
— ^was  not,  also,  Aaron  Burr,  Robespierre,  Benedict 
Arnold?     Ye  mothers,  think  of  that! 

Washington's  mother  had  been  a  v/idow  forty-six 
years.  She  was  remarkable,  through  life,  for  good 
sense,  vigor  of  mind,  uprightness  of  character  and 
simplicity  of  manners.  She  lived  to  see  the  brilliant 
career  of  her  son, — yet  when  he  visited  her  in  the 
height  of  his  fame,  he  found  his  home  unchanged.  His 
renown  caused  no  alteration  in  her  style  of  living. 
Neither  pride  nor  vanity  mingled  in  the  feelings 
excited  by  his  success,  or  the  attention  paid  her  as 
the  Mother  of  Washington.  When  his  praises  were 
uttered  before  her,  she  was  silent,  or  only  added  that 
he  was  a  good  son,  and  she  believed  he  had  done  his 
duty  as  a  man.  Let  no  one  despair  of  human  natui'e, 
while  it  produces  such  models  as  this ! 

Soon  after  the  government  went  into  operation,  it 
became  apparent  that  two  political  parties  were  rising 
in  the  country,  whose  contests  threatened  to  embarrass 
its  progress,  if  not  to  subvert  the  structure  itself. 
From  the  beginning,  there  were  some  persons  un- 
friendly to  the  constitution,  and  Mr.  Jefferson,  the 
secretary  of  state,  appears  to  have  been  among  those 
who  gave  it   a  reluctant  assent.     In  his   office   he 

discharged  his  duties  with  fidelity,  but  as  the  admin- 
4* 


12  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

istration  advanced,  he  Avas  understood  to  disapprove 
It?  leading  measures.  He  looked  upon  the  general 
government  as  possessing  a  degree  of  power  danger- 
ous to  the  individual  states,  and  likely  to  swallow  up 
their  independence,  unless  jealously  watched  and 
rigidly  kept  within  the  defined  limits  of  its  provisions. 

Hamilton  entertained  different  views.  Contemplat- 
ing the  fretful  elements  at  work  in  society,  and  looking 
to  the  experience  of  mankind,  he  helieved  that  if  there 
was  any  defect  in  the  constitution,  it  was  that  of  weak- 
ness ;  and  that,  instead  of  restricting  its  operations  by 
a  narrow  construction  of  the  powers  it  granted,  the 
administration  ■should  rather  seek  to  fortify  itself  by 
an  opposite  course.  In  pursxzancc  of  these  views,  he 
had  recommended  the  funding  system,  the  assumption 
of  state  debts,  the  bank,  and  the  tax  on  domestic 
spirits,  which,  being  approved  by  Washington,  were 
among  the  leading  features  of  his  administration. 
To  all  these  Jefferson  was  opposed,  and  consequently 
a  feeling  of  hostility  grew  up  between  him  and  the 
secretary  of  the  treasury.  This  division  in  his  cabinet 
gave  the  president  great  anxiety,  and  he  endeavored, 
though  in  vain,  to  heal  the  breach. 

As  the  term  for  which  Washington  was  chosen 
president,  drew  near  its  close,  a  general  wish  was 
entertained  that  he  should  consent  to  a  second  election. 
To  this,  however,  he  had  strong  objections.  He 
yearned  for  the  peace  and  quiet  of  private  life,  and 
doubtless  felt  solicitous  to  set  an  example  to  his  suc- 
cessors, of  holding  the  presidential  chair  for  but  a 
single  term.  But  the  edifice  of  government  had  not 
yet  acquired  steadiness ;   the  waves  of  party  were 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON.  43 

beating  upon  it;  the  French  revohition  w.is  shaking 
society,  throughout  Christendom,  to  its  foundations,  and 
communicating  its  threatening  undulations  even  to  our 
own  shores.  It  was  generally  felt  that  his  firm  guid- 
ance was  still  nccessaiy  at  the  helm.  He  received 
many  letters  to  this  effect,  from  every  part  of  the 
country,  and  from  leading  men  of  all  parties.  Ham- 
ilton, Randolph,  and  even  Jefferson,  made  written 
communications  to  him,  urging,  in  strong  terms  and 
by  weighty  arguments,  the  sacrifice  of  his  inclination 
to  the  exigency  of  the  time  and  the  demands  of  his 
country.  Thus,  even  those  who  oppos^  his  adminis-' 
tration,  paid  him  their  homage,  and  a,t  once  confessed 
his  wisdom  and  their  own  inconsistency,  c "  The  con- 
fidence of  the  whole  country,"  said  Jefferson,  "  is 
centred  in  you.  Your  being  at  the  helm,  v»dll  be 
more  than  an  answer  to  every  argument  which  can 
be  used  to  alarm  and  lead  the  people,  in  any  quarter, 
into  violence  or  secession."  Such  were  the  words  of 
one  who  was  the  head  of  the  opposition  to  Washing- 
ton's administration,  and  who  has  done  more  than  all 
other  men  to  unsettle  the  just,  wise  and  patriotic  prin- 
ciples Avhich  he  entertained,  and  sought  to  diffuse  I 

Yielding  to  the  wish  of  the  nation,  unequivocally 
expressed,  Washington  was  unanimously  chosen  for 
a  second  term,  and  accepted  the  appointment.  It  was 
no  idle  trust.  France  was  now  at  war  "wath  embattled 
Europe,  and  it  became  a  matter  of  the  utmost  deli- 
cacy to  steer  clear  of  difficulty  between  the  contend- 
ing parties.  Washington  determined  upon  a  course 
of  strict  neutrality;  yet  this  brought  upon  him  the 
most  violent  attacks  from  the  opposition,  who  were 


44  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

friendly  to  llie  French.  Party  strife  now  raged  with 
unwonted  violence.  /  The  storm  was  rendered  more 
violent  by  the  shameful  audacity  of  citizen  Genet, 
minister  from  the  French  republic.  On  his  arrival, 
he  was  received  with  enthusiasm  by  the  people,  who 
remembered  with  gratitude  the  aid  which  his  country 
had  afforded  in  the  struggle  of  the  revolution.  Em- 
boldened by  these  indications,  he  gave  immediate 
orders,  after  his  landing  at  Charleston,  in  South 
Carolina,  for  fitting  out  vessels  to  cruise  against 
those  of  countries  at  peace  with  the  United  States. 

He  was  politely  received  by  Washington,  but  his 
measures  were  deemed  improper,  and  a  public  decla- 
ration of  the  government  was  made,  prohibiting  such 
a  breach  of  our  neutral  relations  as  he  had  attempted. 
The  minister  protested  against  this  decision,  wrote 
offensive  letters  to  the  secretary  of  state,  and  seemed 
alike  to  forget  the  dignity  of  his  station  and  the  char- 
acter of  a  gentleman.  His  effrontery  was  checked 
by  the  firmness  of  the  executive,  but  he  still  sought 
to  force  the  country  to  the  support  of  his  views. 
Under  his  auspices,  democratic  societies  were  formed 
in  various  parts  of  the  country,  upon  the  model  of  the 
Jacobin  clubs  of  France,  Vv'hose  purpose  and  effect 
were  to  sow  the  seeds  of  jealousy  and  distrust  of  the 
government,  to  bring  the  administration  into  contempt, 
and  sap  the  foundations  of  the  constitution. 

In  spite  of  the  billows  that  foamed  and  fretted 
around  the  government,  it  went  steadily  on,  acquiring 
stability  in  the  midst  of  agitation.  Unbiassed  by  the 
acrimony  of  parties,  the  president  pursued  his  calm 
career.     In  the  spring  of  1794,  John  Jay  was  sent  as 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON.  45 

minister  to  England,  to  attempt  to  adjust  the  difficul- 
ties with  that  power,  and  soon  after  Mr.  Monroe, 
though  of  the  democratic  party,  Avas  despatched  to 
France,  in  place  of  Gouvernor  Morris,  who  was 
recalled.  About  the  same  period,  an  insurrection  in 
Pennsylvania,  called  the  "  whiskey  rebellion,"  was 
suppressed  by  a  show  of  military  force,  and  without 
bloodshed. 

In  179-5,  the  treaty  negotiated  with  England,  by 
Mr.  Jay,  was  received,  and,  after  calm  and  anxious 
deliberation,  Washington  gave  it  his  sanction.  It 
was  also  ratified  by  the  senate.  It  was  seized  upon, 
however,  by  the  opposition,  and  made  the  ground  of 
the  most  bitter  invective.  This  was  particularly 
turned  against  Washington.  Seldom  has  any  indi- 
vidual been  the  object  of  such  malignant  obloquy. 
His  character  was  assailed, — his  motives  impugaed, 
— his  competency  denied.  The  whole  country  was 
swept  as  by  a  tempest.  Yet  he  turned  not  from  his 
path.  Steadfast  in  his  convictions,  he  held  to  his 
purpose ;  the  treaty  went  into  effect,  and  proved  to  be 
one  of  the  wisest  and  happiest  events  in  our  history. 
It  saved  the  country  from  a  war,  improved  our  com- 
merce, and  contributed  to  lay  the  foundation  of  durable 
prosperity.  What  a  triumph  was  this !  what  a  proof 
of  far-sighted  sagacity  on  the  part  of  the  president! 
As  time  advances,  how  great  does  he  appear  I — how 
deep  his  wisdom ! — ^how  lofty  his  calmness !  Yes, — 
and  how  contemptible  his  traducers! — how  subdued 
the  frothy  tempest  they  excited ! 

During  the  progress  of  these  events,  several  changes 
had   taken   place    in    the    cabinet.      Mr.    Jeflerson 


46 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 


returned  from  his  mission  to  France  in  1794,  and 
may  from  this  time  be  considered  as  the  head  of  the 
democratic  party.  And  it  is  proper  to  add,  that  he 
requited  the  implicit  confidence  which  had  been  be- 
stowed upon  him,  in  a  manner  to  excite  the  indignation 
of  Washington.  He  was  succeeded  in  the  depart- 
ment of  state  by  Edmund  Randolph,  the  attorney 
generaL  The  same  year  Hamihon  was  succeeded 
by  Oliver  Wolcott,  of  Connecticut,  and  General  Knox, 
by  Timothy  Pickering,  of  Massachusetts. 

In  1796,  the  captivity  of  La  Fayette  in  the  dungeons 
of  Olmutz,  became  known,  and  it  excited  in  Wash- 
ington the  keenest  anxiety.  We  had  no  diplomatic 
relations  with  Germany,  and  had  therefore  no  poAver 
to  use  direct  efforts  in  his  favor.  Yet  our  ministers 
abroad  were  instructed  to  use  their  influence  to  eflect 
his  liberation,  and  Washington  wrote  with  his  own 
hand  to  the  emperor  of  Austria,  soliciting  his  release. 
The  effect  we  do  not  know;  but  when  the  noble 
captive  was  set  free,  he  Vv^as  delivered  to  the  charge 
of  the  American  consul  at  Hamburg. 

As  the  end  of  his  second  term  drew  near,  Wash- 
ington determined  not  to  accept  another  term  of  office, 
and  set  about  the  preparation  of  his  immortal  farewell 
address.  In  this  he  was  probably  aided  by  the 
admirable  quill  of  Hamilton,  yet  the  sentiments  and 
substance  were  his  own.  It  will  endure  forever,  as  a 
monument  of  his  great  wisdom  and  affectionate 
patriotism.  So  long  as  its  advice  is  heeded  by  our 
country,  we  shall  advance  in  the  career  of  prosperity; 
if  we  deviate  from  its  principles,  we  have  cause  to 
'"ear  for  our  liberties.     Let  us  learn  to  try  every  pub- 


GEOROK    WASHINGTON.  47 

lie  man,  every  public  measure,  by  this  admirable 
document;  and,  regardless  of  names,  professions  and 
pretences,  approve  or  condemn,  as  tbey  may  conform 
to,  or  depart  from,  the  standards  there  proposed. 

Mr.  Adams  was  chosen  president,  and  Mr.  JefTer- 
son  vice-president ;  being  duly  inaugurated,  March  4, 
1797,  Washington  prepared  to  take  his  leave.  At  a 
dinner,  when  many  of  his  friends  were  present,  he 
gave  as  a  sentiment,  "  Ladies  and  gentlemen, — this 
is  the  last  time  I  shall  drink  your  health  as  a  public 
man, — I  do  it  with  sincerity,  Avishing  you  all  possible 
happiness."  The  hilarity  of  the  party  ceased;  and 
tears  which  could  not  be  suppressed  fell  from  the  eyes 
of  those  around.  Taking  leave  of  his  friends,  and  a 
final  farewell  of  public  life,  he  left  Philadelphia,  the 
seat  of  government,  and  was  once  more  restored  to 
the  farm  of  Mount  Vernon. 

He  now  returned  to  the  simple  pursuits,  which 
had  before  occupied  him  in  private  life.  But  in  the 
midst  of  these  scenes,  he  was  called  once  more  to 
yield  to  the  calls  of  his  country.  The  conduct  of  the 
French  directory  had  excited  fears  of  an  approaching 
contest,  and  a  provincial  army  was  raised,  to  stand 
ready  for  any  emergency.  Washington  was  appointed 
to  its  command,  in  July,  179S,  and  accepted  the  trust. 
From  this  period  to  the  end  of  his  life,  he  was  much 
occupied  in  these  military  affairs.  His  official  cor- 
respondence at  this  period  was  extensive,  and  affords 
the  finest  models  of  this  kind  of  Avriting,  as  well  as 
abundant  evidence  of  the  vigor  of  his  intellect  and  the 
fertility  of  his  resources. 

And  now  the  closing  scene  draws  near.     On  the 


48  GEORGE    WASHIx\GTOx\. 

10th  of  December,  1799,  he  was  several  hours  op 
horseback,  and  returned  in  the  afternoon,  wet  and 
chilled  with  rain  and  sleet.  In  the  night  he  had  an 
ague,  and  on  the  morning  of  the  14th,  he  had  a  sore 
throat,  which  caused  him  to  breathe  with  difficulty.  His 
suffering  soon  became  acute,  and  was  unabated  through 
tlie  day.  Medicine  afforded  no  relief.  He  was  per- 
suaded that  death  was  at  hand.  "  I  die  hard,"  said 
he  to  his  physician.  Dr.  Craik, — "but  I  am.  not  afraid 
to  die.  I  believed  from  my  first  attack  that  I  should 
not  survive  it.  My  breath  cannot  last  long."  No- 
thing could  be  done  to  arrest  the  disease.  It  was  the 
will  of  Providence.  Patient,  and  submissive  to  the 
Divine  will,  he  struggled  for  a  brief  space,  and 
expired  without  a  groan,  between  ten  and  eleven 
o'clock,  in  the  sixty-eighth  year  of  his  age.  On  the 
ISth,  his  rem.ains  were  deposited  in  the  tomb  of 
Mount  Vernon,  where  they  still  repose. 

The  character  of  Washington  is  the  finest  in  history. 
It  has  extorted  admiration  from  every  civilized  land. 
Congress  paid  him  their  tribute  of  affection  and 
respect;  the  whole  nation  mourned  for  one,  on  whom 
they  had  bestowed  the  endearing  title  of  Father  of 
his  Country.  Bonaparte,  the  first  consul,  eulogized 
his  character,  and  appointed  public  mourning  for  his 
loss.  An  eulogium  was  pronounced  upon  him  in  the 
Temple  of  Mars,  at  Avhich  the  civil  and  military 
authorities  of  Paris  were  present.  The  British  fleets 
in  Torbay  hung  their  flags  at  half-mast,  upon  hearing 
the  news  of  his  death ! 

The  person  of  Washington  was  commanding,  grace- 
ful ^nd  finely  proportioned.    In  youth  he  was  remark- 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON.  49 

able  for  his  strength,  and  his  vigor  continued,  with 
little  abatement,  till  he  was  advanced  in  life.  His 
stature  was  six  feet,  his  features  regular,  his  hair 
brown,  his  eyes  blue.  His  whole  aspect  was  grave, 
placid  and  benigiiant.  The  dignity  of  his  move- 
ments, the  grace  of  his  salutation,  the  calm  sweetness 
of  his  smile,  were  indescribable.  An  old  soldier, 
speaking  of  him  at  the  time  he  was  stationed  upon  the 
heights  of  Tappan,  recently  described  him  thus:  "I 
saw  General  Washington  almost  every  day.  He 
was  a  noble-looking  man;  his  countenance  was 
terribly  pleasant.  He  did  not  talk  much,  but  even 
the  little  children  fairly  loved  him,  and  they  used  to 
gather  about  the  door  of  his  marquee  every  morning 
to  see  him ;  and  he  used  to  pat  tlieir  heads  and  smile 
on  them;  it  was  beautiful  to  see."    Beautiful,  indeed! 

The  character  of  Washington  has  been  drawn  by 
many  pens.  "  Illustrious  man ! " — says  Cliarles  Fox, 
— "deriving  honor  less  from  the  splendor  of  his 
situation,  than  from  the  dignity  of  his  mind ;  before 
whom  all  borrowed  greatness  sinks  into  insignificance, 
and  all  the  potentates  of  Europe,  excepting  the  mem- 
bers of  our  own  royal  family,  become  little  and  con- 
temptible." "I  have  a  large  acquaintance  am.ong  the 
most  valuable  and  exalted  classes  of  men," — says 
Mr.  Erskine,  "but  Washington  is  the  only  human 
being  for  whom  I  ever  felt  an  awful  reverence." 
Such  were  the  deep  and  powerful  feelings  excited  by 
his  character  in  the  master  spirits  of  another  hejni- 
sphere, — yet  the  children  loved  him,  and  played  confi- 
dently around  his  tent  I 

In  an  oration,  pronounced  on  the  17th  of  June, 
D  VI — 5 


50  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

1843,  occasioned  by  the  completion  of  the  Bunker  Hill 
Monument,  Mr.  Webster  alludes  to  "Washington  in 
a  strain  of  eloquence  which  will  connect  his  name 
forever  with  the  immortal  subject  of  his  eulogy. 

"America,"  says  he,  "  has  furnished  to  the  world 
the  character  of  Washington.  And  if  our  Ameri- 
can institutions  had  done  nothing  else,  that  alone 
would  have  entitled  them  to  the  respect  of  mankind. 

"  Washington  !  '  First  in  war,  first  in  peace,  and 
first  in  the  hearts  of  his  countrymen ! '  Washington 
is  all  our  own!  The  enthusiastic  veneration  and 
regard  in  which  the  people  of  the  United  States  hold 
him,  prove  them  to  be  worthy  of  such  a  countryman ; 
while  his  reputation  abroad  reflects  the  highest  honor 
on  his  country  and  its  institvUions.  I  would  cheer- 
fully put  the  question  to-day  to  the  intelligence  of 
Europe,  and  the  world,  what  character  of  the  cen- 
tury, upon  the  whole,  stands  out  in  the  relief  of 
history  most  pure,  most  respectable,  most  sublime; 
and  I  doubt  not,  that  by  a  suffrage  approaching  to 
unanimity  the  answer  would  be,  Washington ! 

"  This  structure,  by  its  uprightness,  its  solidity,  its 
durability,  is  no  unfit  emblem  of  his  character.  His 
public  virtues  and  public  principles  were  as  firm  as 
the  earth  on  Avhich  it  stands ;  his  personal  motives 
as  pure  as  the  serene  heaven  in  which  its  summit  is 
lost.  But,  indeed,  though  a  fit,  it  is  an  inadequate 
emblem.  Towering  high  above  the  column  which 
our  hands  have  builded, — beheld,  not  by  the  inhabitants 
of  a  single  city  or  a  single  state, — ascends  the  colossal 
grandeur  of  his  character  and  his  life.  In  all  the 
constituents  of  the  one, — in  all  the  acts  of  the  other, — 


I 

GEORGE    WASHINGTON.  51 

in  all  its  titles  to  immortal  love,  admiration  and 
renown — it  is  an  American  production.  It  is  the  em- 
bodiment and  vindication  of  our  transatlantic  liberty. 
Born  upon  our  soil — of  parents  also  born  upon  it — 
never  for  a  moment  having  had  a  sight  of  the  old 
world — instructed,  according  to  the  modes  of  his  time, 
only  in  the  spare,  plain,  but  wholesome  elementary 
knowledge  which  our  institutions  provide  for  the 
children  of  the  people — growing  up  beneath,  and 
penetrated  by  the  genuine  influences  of  American 
society — growing  up  amidst  our  expanding,  but  not 
luxurious  civilization — partaking  in  our  great  destiny 
of  labor,  our  long  contest  with  unreclaimed  nature 
and  uncivilized  man;  our  agony  of  glory,  the  war  of 
independence — our  gTeat  victory  of  peace,  the  forma- 
tion of  the  union,  and  the  establishment  of  the  consti- 
tution— he  is  all — all  our  own  !  That  crowded  and 
glorious  life — 

'Where  multitudes  of  virtues  passed  along, 
Eacli  pressing  foremost  in  the  mighty  throng, 
Contending  to  be  seen,  then  making  room 
For  greater  multitudes  that  were  to  come  ;' — 

that  life  was  the  life  of  an  American  citizen. 

"  I  claim  him  for  America.  In  all  the  perils,  in 
every  darkened  moment  of  the  state,  in  the  midst  of 
the  reproaches  of  enemies  and  misgiving  of  friends, 
I  turn  to  that  transcendent  name  for  courage  and  for 
consolation.  To  him  who  denies  or  doubts  whether 
our  fervid  liberty  can  be  combined  with  law,  v/ith 
order,  with  the  security  of  property,  with  the  pursuits 
and  advancement  of  happiness — to  him  who  denie<) 


5'2  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

that  our  institutions  are  capable  of  producing  exalta- 
tion of  soul,  and  the  passion  of  true  glory — to  him 
who  denies  that  we  have  contributed  anything  to  the 
stock  of  great  lessons  and  great  examples — to  all 
these,  I  reply  by  pointing  to  Washington." 

In  the  admirable  Life  of  Washington,  by  Mr. 
Sparks,  from  which  we  have  chiefly  drawn  the  pre- 
ceding sketch,  we  find  the  following  summary : 

"  The  character  of  his  mind  was  unfolded  in  the 
public  and  private  acts  of  his  life ;  and  the  proofs  of 
his  greatness  are  seen  almost  as  much  in  one  as  the 
other.  The  same  qualities  which  raised  him  to  the 
ascendency  he  possessed  over  the  will  of  the  nation, 
as  the  commander  of  armies  and  chief  magistrate, 
caused  him  to  be  loved  and  respected  as  an  individual. 
Wisdom,  judgment,  prudence  and  firmness,  were  his 
predominant  traits.  No  man  ever  saw  more  clearly 
the  relative  importance  of  things  and  actions,  or 
divested  himself  more  entirely  of  the  bias  of  personal 
interest,  partiality  and  prejudice,  in  discriminating 
between  the  true  and  the  false,  the  right  and  the  wrong, 
in  all  questions  and  subjects  that  were  presented  to 
him.  He  deliberated  slowly,  but  decided  surely  ;  and 
when  his  decision  was  once  formed,  he  seldom 
reversed  it ;  and  never  relaxed  from  the  execution  of  a 
measure  till  it  was  completed.  Courage,  physical  and 
moral,  was  a  part  of  his  nature  ;  and  whether  in  battle, 
or  in  the  midst  of  popular  excitement,  he  was  fearless 
of  danger  and  regardless  of  consequences  to  himself. 

"  His  ambition  was  of  that  noble  kind  Avhich  aims 
to  excel  in  whatever  it  undertakes,  and  to  acquire  a 
power   over  the  hearts  of  men,  by  promoting  their 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON.  53 

happiness  and  winning  their  afTcctions,  Sensitive  to 
the  approbation  of  others,  and  solicitous  to  deserve  it,  he 
made  no  concessions  to  gain  their  applause,  either  by 
flattering  their  vanity  or  yielding  to  their  caprices. 
Cautious  without  timidity,  bold  without  rashness,  cool 
in  counsel,  deliberate  but  firm  in  action,  clear  in  fore- 
sight, patient  under  reverses,  steady,  persevering  and 
self-possessed,  he  met  and  conquered  every  obstacle 
that  obstructed  his  path  to  honor,  renown  and  success. 
More  confident  in  the  uprightness  of  his  intentions 
than  in  his  resources,  he  sought  knowledge.  He 
chose  his  counsellors  with  unerring  sagacity,  and  his 
quick  perception  of  the  soundness  of  an  opinion,  and 
of  the  strong  points  of  an  argument,  enabled  him  to 
draw,  to  his  aid  the  best  fruits  of  their  talents,  and  the 
light  of  their  collected  wisdom. 

"  His  moral  qualities  were  in  perfect  harm.ony  with 
those  of  his  intellect.  Duty  was  the  ruling  principle 
of  his  conduct;  and  the  rare  endowments  of  his  under- 
standing were  not  more  constantly  tasked  to  devise 
the  best  methods  of  effecting  an  object,  than  they 
were  to  guard  the  sanctity  of  conscience.  No  in- 
stance can  be  adduced,  in  which  he  was  actuated  by 
a  sinister  motive,  or  endeavored  to  attain  an  end  by 
unworthy  means.  Truth,  integrity  and  justice  were 
deeply  rooted  in  his  mind ;  and  nothing  could  rouse 
his  indignation  so  soon,  or  so  utterly  destroy  his  con- 
fidence, as  the  discovery  of  the  want  of  these  virtues  in 
any  one  whom  he  had  trusted.  Weaknesses,  follies, 
indiscretions  he  could  forgive ;  but  subterfuge  and 
dishonesty  he  never  forgot,  and  rarely  pardoned.  He 
was  candid  and  sincere,  true  to  his  friends  and  faith- 
5* 


54  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

ml  to  all ;  neither  practising  dissimulation,  descending 
10  artifice,  nor  holding  out  expectations  ■which  he  did 
not  intend  should  be  realized.  His  passions  were 
strong,  and  sometimes  they  broke  out  with  vehe- 
mence, but  he  had  the  power  of  checking  them  in  an 
iiistant.  Perhaps  self-control  was  the  most  remarka- 
ble trait  of  his  character.  It  was  in  part  the  effect  of 
discipline  ;  yet  he  seems  by  nature  to  have  possessed 
this  power  to  a  degree  which  has  been  denied  to 
other  men. 

"  A  Christian  in  faith  and  practice,  he  was  habitu- 
ally devout.  His  reverence  for  religion  is  seen  in  his 
example,  his  public  communications,  and  his  private 
writings.  He  uniformly  ascribed  his  successes  to  the 
beneficent  agency  of  the  Supreme  Being.  Charitable 
and  humane,  he  was  liberal  to  the  poor,  and  kind  to 
those  in  distress.  As  a  husband,  son  and  brother,  he 
was  tender  and  affectionate.  Without  vanity,  osten- 
tation and  pride,  he  never  spoke  of  himself  or  his 
actions,  unless  required  by  circumstances  which  con- 
cerned the  public  interests.  As  he  v.'as  free  from 
envy,  so  he  had  the  good  fortune  to  escape  the  envy 
of  others,  by  standing  on  an  elevation  that  none  could 
hope  to  attain.  If  he  had  one  passion  more  strong 
than  another,  it  was  the  love  of  his  country.  The 
purity  and  ardor  of  his  patriotism  were  commensurate 
with  the  greatness  of  its  object.  Love  of  country  in 
him  was  invested  with  the  sacred  obligation  of  a 
duty  ;  and  from  the  faithful  discharge  of  this  duty,  he 
never  swerved  for  a  moment,  either  in  thought  or 
deed,  through  the  whole  period  of  his  eventful  career. 

"  Such  are  some  of  the  traits  in  the  character  of 


GEORGE    "WASHINGTON.  55 

Washington,  which  have  acquired  for  him  the  love 
and  veneration  of  mankind.  If  they  are  not  marked 
with  the  brilliancy,  extravagance  and  eccentricity, 
which  in  other  men  have  excited  the  astonishment  of 
the  world,  so,  neither  are  they  tarnished  by  the  follies 
nor  disgraced  by  the  crimes  of  those  men.  It  is  the 
happy  combination  of  rare  talents  and  qualities,  the 
harmonious  union  of  the  intellectual  and  moral 
powers,  rather  than  the  dazzling  splendor  of  any 
one  trait,  which  constitute  the  grandeur  of  his  charac- 
ter. If  the  title  of  a  great  man  ought  to  be  reserved  for 
him  who  cannot  be  charged  with  an  indiscretion  or  a 
vice,  who  spent  his  life  in  establishing  the  independ- 
ence, the  glory  and  durable  prosperity  of  his  country, 
who  succeeded  in  all  that  he  undertook,  and  whose  suc- 
cesses were  never  won  at  the  expense  of  honor,  jus- 
tice or  integrity,  or  by  the  sacrifice  of  a  single  princi- 
ple— this  title  will  not  be  denied  to  Washington." 

We  cannot  better  close  this  brief  notice,  than  by 
recommending  to  the  youth  of  our  country  the  careful 
study  of  Washington's  life  and  character.  He  had 
not  endo^\Tnents  beyond  many  others ;  he  enjoyed  no 
peculiar  advantages  of  education  or  position  ;  he  was 
not  elevated,  therefore,  beyond  the  reach  of  hopeful 
emulation.  There  was  no  imapproachable  superiority 
in  his  nature  or  his  early  fortunes.  His  success  was 
his  own  work  ;  what  he  was,  others  may  be.  If  we 
consider  the  benefits  he  bestowed  on  our  country  by  his 
labors,  his  writings  and  his  example — if  Ave  reckon 
up  the  good  he  has  done,  and  will  still  do  to  mankind 
for  ages  to  come,  by  demonstrating  the  possibility  of 
a  virtuous  and   patriotic  public   and   private  career, 


56  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

and  if  we  consider  that  this  vast  scope  of  usefulness 
was  the  result  of  powers  and  faculties  common  to  our 
race,  we  shall  learn  to  estimate  the  dignity  of  human 
nature  and  the  value  of  human  life — placed  in  the 
hands  of  one  who  will  use  it  for  its  highest  purposes. 


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'i^ 

JOHN  JAY. 

This  man,  who  deSfexves  a  place  by  the  side  of 
Washington,  was  born  at  New  York,  December  12th, 
1745.  His  father,  Peter  Jay,  was  a  wealthy  mer- 
chant, descended  from  a  long  line  of  worthy  ancestors ; 
his  mother  was  Mary  Van  Courtlandt.*  These 
had  ten  children,  of  whom  John  Avas  the  eighth. 

*  The  character  of  these  parents  is  thus  cli-awn  in  the  work 
entitled  "  The  Life  of  John  Jay,"  &c. ;  by  Wm.  Jay,  his  son, 
and  from  which  we  derive  our  sketch.  '•'  Both  father  and 
mother  were  actuated  by  sincere  and  fervent  piety ;  both  had 
warm  hearts  and  cheerful  tempers  ;  and  both  possessed,  under 
varied  and  severe  trials,  a  remarkable  degi'ee  of  equanimity. 
But,  in  other  respects,  they  differed  widely.  He  possessed 
strong  masculine  sense,  was  a  shrewd  observer,  and  admirable 
judge  of  men  ;  resolute,  persevering  and  prudent;  an  affection- 
ate father ;  a  kind  master,  but  governing  all  under  his  control 
with  mild  but  absolute  sway.  She  had  a  cultivated  mind  and 
fine  imagination ;  mild  and  affectionate  in  her  temper  and 
manners,  she  took  delight  in  the  duties  as  well  as  the  pleasures 
of  domestic  life ;  while  a  cheerful  resignation  to  the  will  of 
Providence,  during  many  years  of  sickness  and  suffering,  bore 
witness  to  the  strength  of  her  religious  faith.  So  happily  did 
these  various  dispositions  harmonize  together,  that  the  subject 
of  this  memoir  often  declared  that  he  had  never,  in  a  single 
instance,  heard  either  of  his  parents  use  toward  each  other  an 
angry  or  unkind  word.  Notwithstanding  the  cares  of  a  large 
family,  the  mother  devoted  much  of  her  time  to  the  instruction 
of  the  two  blind  children,  and  of  the  little  John.  To  the 
former  she  read  the  best  authors  ;  to  the  latter,  she  taught  the 
rudiments  of  English,  and  the  Latin  grammar." 


JOHN    JAY. 


JOHN    JAY.  59 

While  he  Avas  yet  an  infant,  the  family  remoA  ed  to 
Rye,  twenty-eight  miles  northeast  of  New  York, 
partly  that  they  might  devote  themselves  with  more 
care  to  two  of  their  children,  rendered  blind  by  the 
small-pox.  John's  first  instruction  was  from  his 
mother ;  at  the  age  of  eight  he  was  sent  to  the  neigh- 
boring village  of  New  Rochelle,  and  placed  under  the 
care  of  an  eccentric  Swiss  clergyman,  who  had 
charge  of  the  French  church  in  that  place.  This 
person  was  a  devoted  student,  and  left  his  worldly 
aiTairs  to  his  wife,  who  was  as  penurious  as  she  was 
careless.  The  parsonage  and  everything  about  it  were 
suffered  to  go  to  decay,  and  the  boys  under  the  pastor's 
charge  were  treated  with  much  scolding  and  little  food. 
John,  who  had  been  accustomed  to  a  luxurious  mode 
of  life,  was  now  driven  to  the  necessity  of  taking 
care  of  himself.  The  snow  drifted  upon  his  head 
through  the  broken  panes  of  his  windows,  but  these 
he  closed  with  pieces  of  wood.  The  food  was  coarse, 
but  he  learned  to  be  content  with  it.  His  health  was 
good,  and  it  is  probable  the  privations  he  suffered, 
were  of  advantage  to  him  through  life.  He  was 
reduced  to  the  simple,  homely  pursuits  of  other  boys  ; 
he  gathered  nuts  in  the  woods,  and,  stripping  off  a 
stocking,  brought  them  home  in  it.  In  his  after 
greatnesS;  he  used  to  speak  of  these  days,  as  among 
the  happiest  of  his  existence. 

The  inhabitants  of  New  Rochelle  were  chiefly  French 
refugees,  and  John  soon  learned  their  language,  for 
which  he  had  afterwards  abundant  use.  He  remained 
at  the  school  here  three  years,  and,  in  1760,  was  sent 
to    Columbia   college,    at   New  York,  a   respectable 


60  JOHN    JAY. 

seminary,  but  then  in  its  infancy.  Being  now  intro- 
durcd  into  a  new  scene,  and  with  new  companions, 
he  soon  remarked  certain  peculiarities  and  deficiencies 
in  himself,  and  the  energy  with  which  he  set  about 
curing  them  shows  great  decision  of  character.  His 
articulation  was  indistinct,  and  his  mode  of  pronounc- 
ing the  letter  L  exposed  him  to  ridicule.  He  pur- 
chased a  book  written  by  Sheridan,  probably  his 
lectures  on  elocution,  and,  shutting  himself  up  daily 
in  his  room,  studied  it  till  his  object  was  accomplished. 
He  had  a  habit  of  reading  so  rapidly,  as  to  be  under- 
stood with  difficulty.  For  the  purpose  of  correcting 
this  fault,  he  read  aloud  to  himself,  making  a  full  stop 
after  every  word,  until  he  acquired  a  complete  control 
of  his  voice ;  and  he  thus  became  an  excellent  reader. 
With  the  same  energy,  he  pursued  all  his  studies. 
He  paid  particular  attention  to  English  composition, 
and  so  intent  was  he  on  this,  that,  when  about  to  write 
an  English  exercise,  he  placed  a  piece  of  paper  and 
pencil  by  his  bedside,  that  if,  while  meditating  on  his 
subject  in  the  night,  a  valuable  idea  occurred  to  him, 
he  might  make  some  note  of  it,  even  in  the  dark,  that 
he  might  recall  it  in  the  morning. 

His  good  conduct  acquired  for  him  the  favor  of  the 
president  of  the  seminary ;  but  an  incident  occurred  in 
the  last  year  of  his  college  life,  which  threatened  to 
alter  this  state  of  feeling.  A  number  of  students  being 
assembled  in  the  college  hall,  some  of  them,  either 
through  a  silly  spirit  of  mischief,  or  in  revenge  for 
some  fault  imputed  to  tire  steward,  began  to  break  the 
table.  The  president,  attracted  by  the  noise,  entered 
the  room,  but  not  so  speedily  as  to  find  the  offenders  in 


JOHN    JAY.  6] 

the  act.  He  immediately  ranged  the  students  in  a 
line,  and  beginning  at  one  end,  asked,  "  Did  you  break 
the  table?"  The  answer  Avas,  "No,"  "  Do  you  know 
who  did?"  "No."  Passing  along  the  line,  the  aame 
'[uestions  and  answers  were  asked  and  received,  till  he 
came  to  young  Jay,  who  was  the  last  but  one  m  the 
line.  To  the  first  question  he  replied  as  the  others 
had  done,  and  to  the  second  he  ansAvered,  "  Yes,  sir." 
"AVlio  was  it?"  "I  do  not  choose  to  tell  you,  sir," 
was  the  unexpected  reply.  The  young  gentleman 
below  him  returned  the  same  answers.  The  contu- 
macious students  Avere  called  before  a  board  of  the 
professors,  where  Jay  made  their  defence. 

Each  student,  on  his  admission,  had  been  required 
to  sign  his  name  to  a  Avritten  promise  of  obedience  to 
all  the  college  statutes.  Young  Jay  contended  that  he 
had  faithfully  kept  this  promise,  and  that  the  pres- 
ident had  no  right  to  exact  from  him  anything  not 
required  by  the  statutes ;  that  these  statutes  did  not 
require  him  to  inform  against  his  companions,  and 
that,  therefore,  his  refusal  to  do  so  was  not  an  act  of 
disobedience.  The  defence  was  overruled,  and  the 
delinquents  were  sentenced  to  be  suspended  and 
rusticated.  Jay  returned  to  college  at  the  expiration 
of  his  sentence,  and  Dr.  Cooper,  the  president,  by  the 
kindness  of  his  reception,  suffered  him  to  perceive  that 
he  had  not  forfeited  any  part  of  his  good  opinion. 

Left  to  his  own  choice  of  a  profession,  young  Jay 
chose  that  of  the  law,  and,  immediately  after  taking 
his  degree,  entered  the  office  of  Mr.  Kissam,  a  lead- 
ing lawyer  in  New  York.  It  is  interesting  to  remark 
that  he  found  in  the  same  office,  Lindley  Murray, 
VI. — 6 


62  JOHN    JAY. 

afterwards  celebrated  for  his  various  works,  especially 
those  for  education.  In  one  of  these  he  speaks  of 
young  Jay,  referring  to  the  time  of  their  companionship 
in  the  law  office,  in  these  words  :  "  His  talents  and  vir- 
tues gave  at  that  period  pleasing  indications  of  future 
eminence ;  he  was  remarkable  for  strong  reasoning 
powers,  comprehensive  views,  indefatigable  applica- 
tion, and  vincommon  firmness  of  mind.  With  these 
qualifications,  added  to  a  just  taste  in  literature,  and 
ample  stores  of  learning  and  knowledge,  he  was 
happily  prepared  to  enter  on  that  career  of  public 
virtue  by  which  he  was  afterwards  honorably  dis- 
tinguished, and  made  instrumental  in  promoting  the 
good  of  his  country." 

On  commencing  his  clerkship,  young  Jay  asked 
his  father's  permission  to  keep  a  riding  horse.  His 
prudent  parent  hesitated,  and  remarked  that  horses 
were  seldom  elegible  companions  for  young  men; 
adding,  "  John,  why  do  you  want  a  horse  ? "  "  That  I 
may  have  the  means,  sir,  of  visiting  you  frequently," 
was  the  reply;  and  it  removed  every  objection.  The 
horse  was  procured ;  and  during  the  three  years  of 
his  clerkship,  he  made  it  a  rule  to  pass  one  day  VAth 
his  parents  at  Rye,  every  fortnight.  In  1768,  Jay 
was  admitted  to  the  bar,  and,  continuing  his  residence 
in  New  York,  almost  immediately  acquired  an  exten- 
sive and  lucrative  practice.  It  now  sometimes  hap- 
pened that  he  and  his  teacher,  Mr.  Kissam  were 
engaged  on  opposite  sides  in  the  same  cause ;  and  on 
one  of  these  occasions,  the  latter  being  embarrassed 
by  some  position  taken  by  the  other,  pleasantly 
remarked  in  court,  that  he  had  brought  up  a  bird  to 


JOHN    JAY.  63 

pick  oui  his  own  eyes.  "  Oh  no,"  replied  his  oppo- 
nent, "  not  to  pick  out,  but  to  open  your  eyes." 

Mr.  Jay's  devotion  to  his  profession,  at  length 
began  to  affect  his  health,  and  the  physician  advised 
him  to  take  exercise,  as  indispensable  to  its  recovery. 
This  advice  was  followed  with  characteristic  energy 
and  perseverance.  He  took  lodgings  six  miles  from 
his  office,  and  for  a  whole  season  came  to  town  every 
morning  on  horseback,  ai>^  returned  in  the  evening. 
The  experiment  was  attended  with  complete  success. 

In  1774,  Mr.  Jay  was  married  to  Sarah,  the 
youngest  daughter  of  William  Livingston,  Esq.,  after- 
wards for  many  years  governor  of  New  Jersey,  and  a 
zealous  and  disting-uished  patriot  of  the  revolution. 
His  prospects  of  domestic  happiness  and  professional 
eminence  were  now  unusually  bright ;  but  they  were 
soon  clouded  by  the  claims  of  his  country,  which 
called  him  from  the  bar  and  the  endearments  of  home, 
to  defend  her  rights  in  the  national  councils  and  at 
foreign  courts. 

The  passage  of  the  Boston  Port  Bill,  on  the  30th  of 
March,  1774,  disclosed  to  the  American  people  the 
vindictive  feelings  of  the  British  ministry,  and  taught 
them  that  a  prompt  and  vigorous  resistance  to  oppres- 
sion could  alone  preserve  their  freedom.  The  news 
of  this  act  excited  universal  alarm.  A  meeting  of  the 
citizens  of  New  York  was  assembled  on  the  16th  of 
May,  "  to  consult  on  the  measures  proper  to  be  pur- 
sued in  consequence  of  the  late  extraordinary  advices 
received  from  England."  The  meeting  nominated  a 
committee  of  fifty  to  correspond  with  our  sister  colo- 
nies on  all  matters  of  moment. 


64  JOHN  JAY. 

IMr.  Jay  was  a  member  of  this  body,  and  the  result 
of  their  deliberations  was  the  recommendation  of  a 
congress  of  deputies  from  the  several  colonies,  to  take 
into  consideration  the  proper  measures  to  be  taken  in 
the  pending  crisis.  This  suggestion  was  adopted, 
and  l\Ir.  Jay  was  chosen  as  one  of  the  delegates  from 
New  York.  He  took  his  seat  in  that  body — the  first 
continental  congress — which  was  to  lay  the  foundation 
of  American  independence,  September  5th,  1774,  this 
being  the  first  day  of  the  session.  He  was  in  his  29th 
year,  and  was  the  youngest  member  of  the  house. 
He  survived  all  his  colleagues  many  years. 

The  first  act  of  the  new  congress  Avas  to  appoint  a 
committee  to  state  the  rights  of  the  colonies  in  general; 
the  several  instances  in  which  those  rights  had  been 
violated  and  infringed;  and  the  means  most  proper 
to  be  pursued  for  obtaining  a  restoration  of  them. 
Mr.  Jay  was  placed  on  this  committee  and  that  for 
drafting  an  address  to  the  people  of  Great  Britain  and 
a  memorial  to  the  people  of  British  Amxerica.  The 
vriting  of  the  address  to  the  people  of  Great  Britain 
was  assigned  by  the  committee  to  him.  The  occa- 
sion, the  subject,  his  own  youth,  and  this  being  his 
first  appearance  in  the  national  councils,  all  united 
in  demanding  from  him  the  utmost  exertion  of  his 
powers.  To  secure  himself  from  interruption,  he  left 
his  lodgings,  and  shut  himself  up  in  a  tavern,  and 
there  composed  that  celebrated  state  paper,  not  less 
distinguished  for  its  lofty  sentiments  than  for  the 
glowing  language  in  which  they  are  expressed.  The 
address  was  reported  by  the  committee  and  adopted 
by  congress,  and  immediately  led  to  much  inquiry 


JOHN    JAY.  65 

and  discussion  respecting  the  author.  Mr.  Jcficrson, 
while  still  ignorant  of  the  author,  declared  it  to  be  "  a 
production  certainly  of  the  finest  pen  in  America." 

After  a  session  of  six  weeks,  congress  adjourned, 
having,  among  other  measures,  provided  for  another 
congress  to  be  held  at  the  same  place, — Philadelphia. 
Of  this,  also,  Mr.  Jay  was  a  member.  It  met,  May 
10th,  1775,  and  such  was  now  the  serious  aspect  of 
affairs,  that  it  continued  in  session  a  whole  year, 
excepting  a  recess  during  the  month  of  August. 

On  the  15th  June,  Washington  was  chosen  com- 
mander-in-chief of  the  army,  and,  a  few  days  after- 
wards, the  subordinate  generals  Avere  appointed. 
These  officers  were  selected  from  difTerent  parts  of 
the  continent,  and  it  Avas  thought  expedient  to  take  a 
brigadier  from  New  Hampshire ;  but  congress  were 
unacquainted  with  any  military  gentleman  from  that 
colony  fit  for  the  station.  In  this  dilemma,  Mr.  Jay 
nominated  Mr.  John  Sullivan,  a  delegate  in  congress 
from  NoAV  Hampshire, — saying  that  his  good  sense 
was  known  to  the  house,  and  as  to  his  military  talents, 
he  would  take  his  chance  for  them.  The  nomination 
was  confirmed,  and  the  discernment  which  prompted 
it  was  abundantly  justified  by  General  Sullivan's  active 
and  useful  career. 

The  contest  had  now  begun  in  earnest,  though 
independence  was  not  yet  avowed  as  its  object. 
Addresses  to  the  people  of  Canada  and  of  Ireland 
were  resolved  upon,  and  they  were  drawn  up  by  IMr. 
Jay  with  his  usual  ability.  He  also  moved  a  petition 
to  the  king,  to  be  signed  by  the  members  of  congress, 
which  he  carried  acfainst  great  opposition.  The 
E      ^        6* 


66  JOHN    JAY. 

result  was  auspicous  to  the  cause  of  liberty ;  for,  being 
unheeded,  it  roused  more  deeply  the  indignation  of 
the  country. 

Congress  having  now  taken  all  the  measures  which 
human  prudence  could  dictate,  submitted  their  cause, 
with  prayer  and  fasting,  to  Him  without  whose  bless- 
ing the  wisdom  of  man  is  folly,  and  his  strength 
weakness.  The  20th  of  July,  agreeably  to  a  previous 
recommendation  of  congress,  was  observed  throughout 
the  colonies  "  as  a  day  of  public  humiliation,  fasting 
and  prayer,"  and  congress,  in  a  body,  attended  divine 
service,  both  in  the  morning  and  afternoon,  and 
listened  to  sermons  from  preachers,  whom  they  had 
requested  to  officiate  on  that  occasion. 

America  had  nov/  commenced  a  struggle  for  her 
rights,  trusting  to  the  justice  of  her  cause,  and  proba- 
bly without  the  remotest  expectation  of  foreign  aid. 
But  a  singular  incident  occurred  in  November  of  this 
year,  1775,  which  excited  a  gleam  of  hope.  Congress 
was  informed  that  a  foreigner  was  then  in  Philadel- 
phia, who  was  desirous  of  making  to  them  an  impor- 
tant and  confidential  communication.  This  intimation 
having  been  several  times  repeated,  a  committee,  con- 
sisting of  Mr.  Jay,  Doctor  Franklin  and  Mr.  Jefferson, 
was  appointed  to  hear  what  the  foreigner  had  to  say. 
These  gentlemen  agreed  to  meet  him  in  one  of  the 
committee  rooms  in  Carpenter's  Hall.  At  the  time 
appointed,  they  v/ent  there,  and  found  already  arrived 
an  elderly  lame  gentleman,  having  the  appearance  of 
an  old  wounded  French  officer.  They  told  him 
they  were  authorized  to  receive  his  communication; 
upon  which  he  said,  that  his  Most  Christian  Majesty 


jojm  JAY.  67 

had  heard  with  pleasure  of  the  exertions  made  by 
the  American  colonies  in  defence  of  their  rights  and 
privileges ;  that  his  majesty  wished  them  success, 
and  would,  whenever  it  should  be  necessary,  mani- 
fest more  openly  his  friendly  sentiments  towards 
them. 

The  committee  requested  to  know  his  authority  for 
giving  these  assurances.  He  only  answered  by 
drawing  his  hand  across  his  throat,  and  saying, 
•'Gentlemen,  I  shall  take  care  of  my  head."  They 
then  asked  what  demonstrations  of  friendship  thev 
might  expect  from  the  king  of  France.  "  Gentlemen," 
answered  the  foreigner,  "  if  you  want  arms,  you  shall 
have  them ;  if  you  want  ammunition,  you  shall  have 
it;  if  you  want  money,  you  shall  have  it."  The 
committee  observed  that  these  assurances  were  indeed 
important,  but  again  desired  to  know  by  what  authority 
they  were  made.  "  Gentlemen,"  said  he,  repeating 
his  former  gesture,  "I  shall  take  care  of  mj^  head;" 
and  this  was  the  only  answer  they  could  obtain  from 
him.  He  was  seen  in  Philadelphia  no  more.  It 
was  the  opinion  of  the  committee  that  he  was  a  secret 
agent  of  the  French  court,  directed  to  give  these 
indirect  assurances,  but  in  such  a  manner  that  they 
might  be  disavowed  if  necessary.  These  commu- 
nications were  not  without  their  effect  on  the  pro- 
ceedings of  congress.  On  the  29th  of  November,  a 
secret  committee  was  appointed,  including  Mr.  Jay, 
for  corresponding  "with  the  friends  of  America  in 
Great  Britain,  Ireland,  and  other  parts  of  the  world." 
There  is  reason,  therefore,  to  believe  that  the  myste- 
rious stranger,  whether  acting  by  authority  or  not, 


68  JOHN    JAY. 

was  the  immediate  occasion  of  those  steps  which 
resulted,  at  last,  in  obtaining  the  assistance  of 
France. 

In  the  spring  of  1776,  though  still  a  member  of 
congress,  Mr.  Jay  was  called  to  New  York,  to  take 
part  in  a  colonial  convention  there.  This  assembled 
in  May.  On  the  29th  of  June,  Lord  Howe  and  his 
army  arrived  off  the  harbor  of  New  York,  and  the 
convention,  apprehending  an  attack  upon  the  city, 
ordered  all  the  leaden  window  sashes,  which  were 
then  common  in  Dutch  houses,  to  be  taken  out  for 
the  use  of  the  troops ;  an  order  that  strikingly  shows 
how  ill  the  colony  was  prepared  for  the  arduous  con- 
flict that  ensued.  The  next  day,  the  convention 
adjourned  to  White  Plains,  about  twenty-seven  miles 
from  the  city. 

The  neAV  convention,  clothed  with  power  to  estab- 
lish a  form  of  government  for  the  colony,  convened  at 
White  Plains,  on  the  9th  of  July ;  and,  on  the  same 
day,  they  received  from  congress  the  Declaration 
of  Independence.  This  important  document  was 
immediately  referred  to  a  committee,  of  which  Mr. 
Jay  was  chairman,  and  he  speedily  reported  the  fol- 
lowing resolution,  which  was  unanimously  adopted : 

"  Resolved,  that  .the  reasons  assigned  by  the  conti- 
nental congress,  for  declaring  these  united  colonies 
free  and  independent  states,  are  cogent  and  conclusive ; 
and  that  while  we  lament  the  cruel  necessity  Avhich 
has  rendered  this  measure  unavoidable,  we  approve 
the  same,  and  will,  at  the  risk  of  our  lives  and  for- 
tunes, join  with  the  other  colonies  in  supporting  it." 

Thus,  although  Mr.  Jay  was,  by  his  recall  from 


JOHN    JAY.  69 

congress,  dcpriA'cd  of  the  honor  of  affixing-  his  signa- 
ture to  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  he  had  the 
satisfaction  of  drafting  the  pledge  given  by  his  native 
state  to  support  it.  The  act  has  the  greater  merit, 
and  more  clearly  shoAVS  the  decision  of  his  character, 
from  the  consideration  that  New  York  was  less 
unanimous  in  the  assertion  and  defence  of  the  prin- 
ciples of  the  revolution,  than  any  other  of  the  thirteen 
colonies.  In  almost  every  county  there  were  num- 
bers who  secretly  or  openly  sided  with  the  mother 
country,  and  many  of  them  were  persons  of  wealth 
and  consideration.  These  circumstances  had  no 
influence,  however,  upon  the  steadfast  mind  of  Jay. 

We  cannot  enter  into  the  details  of  his  various 
services  during  the  fearful  crisis  that  speedily  fol- 
lowed. It  must  be  sufficient  to  say,  that,  with  cease- 
less industry  and  unabating  zeal,  in  various  capacities, 
he  devoted  himself  to  the  cause  of  the  bleeding 
country.  We  must  not  omit,  however,  to  notice  the 
manner  in  which  he  was  instrumental  in  opening 
negotiations  with  the  French  government,  which 
resulted  in  the  cooperation  of  that  power  in  our 
struggle  for  independence.  In  1775,  Mr.  Jay  had 
been  placed  by  congress  on  a  secret  committee  of 
correspondence.  The  proceedings  of  this  committee 
were  enveloped  in  the  most  profound  secrecy,  and  they 
led  to  important  results.  Mr.  Jay  seems  to  have 
been  its  chief  organ  of  correspondence.  The  com- 
mittee, having  secured  the  friendship  of  certain  indi- 
viduals in  France  and  Holland,  sent,  in  the  spring  of 
this  year,  Mr.  Silas  Deane,  a  late  member  of  congress, 
as  their  agent  to  France.     He  was  directed  to  appear 


70  JOHN    JA\'. 

in  that  country  as  a  merchant ;  and  certain  persons 
were  mentioned,  to  whom  he  was  to  confide  the  object 
of  his  mission,  and  through  whose  agency  he  was  to 
obtain  an  interview  with  Count  Vergennes,  the 
French  minister  for  foreign  affairs.  It  was  hoped 
that  he  would  thus  be  enabled  to  procure  military 
supplies  for  congress. 

As  France  was  at  this  time  at  peace  Avith  England, 
it  became  necessary  to  resort  to  expedients  to  provide 
for  the  consequences  that  might  result  from  the  mis- 
carriage of  Mr.  Deane's  letters.  For  this  purpose  he 
Avas  provided  with  an  invisible  ink,  and  Mr.  Jay  with 
a  chemical  preparation  for  rendering  the  writing  legi- 
ble. But  as  letters  apparently  blank  might  excite 
suspicion,  and  lead  to  experiments  that  might  expose 
the  contrivance,  Mr.  Deane's  communications  were 
written  on  large  sheets,  commencing  with  a  short 
letter  in  common  ink,  relative  to  some  fictitious  person 
or  business,  and  under  a  feigned  name ;  and  the  resi- 
due of  the  paper  was  occupied  by  his  despatch  in  the 
invisible  ink. 

The  correspondence,  thus  arranged,  was  carried  on 
for  a  considerable  time,  and  Mr.  Deane's  mission 
proved  successful. 

The  convention  of  New  York  had  been  assembled 
in  1776,  to  form  a  constitution  for  the  state,  as  well  as 
to  exercise  the  powers  of  government  till  that  could  be 
accomplished.  The  stirring  events  which  followed 
occupied  their  whole  attention  for  a  considerable  time ; 
but  in  March,  1777,  a  committee,  appointed  for  the 
purpose,  reported  the  plan  of  a  constitution,  drawn 
up  by  Mr.  Jay,  which,  with  slight  modifications,  was 


JOHN  JAY.  71 

adopted.    Under  the  new  government,  now  organized, 
he  was  appointed  chief  justice. 

In  the  duties  of  his  new  station  he  was  actively 
engaged  for  a  time,  but  his  services  being  particularly- 
needed  in  congress,  he  took  his  seat  there  in  Decem- 
ber, 1778,  after  an  absence  of  two  years.  Though 
this  was  not  legally  incompatible  with  his  judicial 
station,  he  found  that  congress  had  no  recess,  and  that 
his  time  was  therefore  wholly  occupied  in  its  duties. 
In  the  autumn  of  1799,  he  accordingly  resigned  the 
ofRce  of  chief  justice  of  New  York. 

Eut  his  services  were  now  required  in  another 
sphere.  Desirous  of  strengthening  their  foreign 
alliances,  congress  deemed  it  advisable  to  despatch  a 
minister  to  Spain,  and  Mr.  Jay  took  his  departure  on 
a  mission  to  that  government,  October  20,  1779.  He 
sailed  with  his  wife,  on  board  the  American  frigate 
Confederacy,  bound  for  Spain.  Being  crippled  by  a 
storm,  the  vessel  put  into  Martinique ;  but  he  here 
found  a  vessel  bound  for  Toulon,  which  took  him  and 
his  family  on  board,  and  they  landed  at  Cadiz,  Janu- 
ary 22,  1780. 

On  the  fourth  day  after  he  had  landed,  Mr.  Jay 
despatched  his  secretary  to  Madrid,  with  a  letter  foi 
the  Spanish  minister,  acquainting  him  with  the  com 
mission  with  which  he  was  charged.  An  answer 
was  returned,  inviting  him  to  Madrid,  but  intimating 
that  it  was  expected  he  would  not  assume  a  formal 
character,  which  must  depend  on  f  future  acknowl- 
edgment and  treaty. 

Mr.  Jay  was  thus  led  to  perceive,  at  the  very  outset 
of  his  negotiation,  that  the  acknowledgment  of  Ame»» 


72  JOHN    JAY. 

ican  independence,  by  Spain,  would  on  her  part  be  a 
matter  of  bargain,  and  that  she  expected  to  be  paid 
for  admitting  an  indisputable  fact.  He,  however,  lost 
no  time  in  repairing  to  Madrid,  and  in  doing  so, 
encountered  all  the  delay  and  inconveniences  incident 
to  Spanish  travelling. 

On  his  arrival  at  Madrid,  he  discovered  no  dispo- 
sition in  the  Spanish  government  to  enter  into  nego- 
tiation with  him ;  and  he  remarked  soon  after,  in  a 
letter  to  a  friend,  "  pains  were  taken  to  prevent  any 
conduct  towards  me  that  might  savor  of  an  admission 
or  knowledge  of  American  independence." 

Shortly  after  Mr.  Jay's  departure  from  America, 
congress  adopted  a  measure  that  was  prompted  rather 
by  the  exigencies  of  the  country  than  by  any  sound 
principles  of  policy.  As  one  expedient  for  raising 
money  for  present  necessities,  they  ordered  bills  to  be 
drawn  on  Mr.  Jay,  for  more  than  half  a  million  of 
dollars,  payable  six, months  after  sight,  in  the  hope 
that,  before  that  time,  he  would  have  obtained  a  sub- 
sidy from  the  Spanish  court.  With  these  bills,  sup- 
plies were  purchased  for  the  army,  and  the  holders  sent 
them  to  their  European  correspondent,  who  presented 
them  to  Mr.  Jay,  for  acceptance.  That  congress 
should  have  ventured  on  such  a  measure,  not  only 
without  knowing  that  Mr.  Jay  could  procure  money 
in  Spain,  but  even  before  they  had  heard  of  his  arrival 
there,  proves  the  desperate  state  of  their  finances  at 
this  period  of  the  revolution,  and  the  conviction  that 
the  means  of  continuing  the  contest  were  to  be  pro- 
vided for  at  every  hazard.  Similar  bills  were  drawn 
upon  Mr.  Laurens,  who  had  sailed  as  American  min- 


JOHN  JAY.  73 

ister  for  Holland,  and  unfortunately  they  arrived 
before  the  minister,  who,  being  captured  by  a  British 
cruiser,  was  consigned  to  the  Tower  of  London. 

The  bills  thus  drawn  upon  him,  Mr.  Jay  concluded 
to  accept,  in  the  hope  of  obtaining  the  means  of  meet 
mg  them  from  the  Spanish  government.  A  portion 
of  them,  to  the  amount  of  about  one  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  dollars,  was  provided  for  in  this  way,  but  at 
last  difTiculties  arose,  and  bills  he  had  accepted  to  a 
large  amount  were  protested.  Mr.  Jay's  situation 
was  now  very  painful ;  but  he  Avas  soon  relieved  by 
getting  a  letter  from  Doctor  Franklin,  one  of  our 
ministers  at  Paris,  authorizing  him  to  draw  upon  him 
for  the  amount  of  all  the  bills  that  had  fallen  due. 
Thus  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  credit  of 
his  country  restored,  and  his  own  apparently  rash 
conduct  justified  by  the  event. 

Mr.  Jay's  continued  residence  in  Spain  now 
afforded  no  prospect  of  usefulness  to  his  country. 
Although  treated  with  great  personal  civility,  he  was 
not  acknowledged  in  his  public  character,  nor  did  he 
see  any  opportunity  of  forming  any  other  treaty  with 
Spain,  than  such  as  might  be  extorted  from  the  neces- 
sities of  America.  Thus  situated,  it  must  have  been 
with  no  small  satisfaction  that  he  received,  early  in 
May,  a  letter  from  Doctor  Frankhn,  pressing  him  to 
repair  to  Paris,  to  assist  in  the  negotiations  for  peace, 
which  the  doctor  believed  would'  soon  be  opened. 
With  his  usual  promptitude,  he  obeyed  the  summons 
in  a  few  days,  and,  abandoning  a  field  in  which  his 
labors  had  produced  but  little  fruit,  he  entered  anoiAer 
VI. — 7 


74  JOHN    JAY. 

in  whicli  he  gathered  for  his  country  an  abundant 
harvest. 

Shortly  before  his  departure  from  Spain,  he  re- 
ceived from  Doctor  Franklin  a  copy  of  a  letter 
written  by  Mr.  Deane  to  a  friend  in  America,  repre- 
senting the  American  cause  as  desperate,  and  recom- 
mending an  immediate  reconciliation  with  Great 
Britain.  The  letter  had  been  intercepted  and  pub- 
lished by  the  English.  Mr.  Jay,  who,  as  we  have 
already  seen,  was  on  friendly  terms  with  Deane,  had 
suspended  his  portrait  in  his  parlor  at  Madrid ;  but, 
on  receiving  this  evidence  of  his  apostasy,  he  took 
down  the  picture  and  threw  it  into  the  fire,  and  ever 
after  showed  great  reluctance  to  speak  of  the  origi- 
nal. 

On  leaving  Spain,  ]\Ir.  Jay  was  informed  that 
Count  Aranda,  the  Spanish  ambassador  at  Paris, 
would  be  authorized  to  continue  the  negotiations  with 
him.  Although  there  was  no  reason  to  anticipate 
favorable  results  from  a  renewal  of  the  negotiation, 
Mr.  Jay  was  determined  to  omit  nothing  that  might 
promote  the  interests  of  his  country;  and  therefore  he 
addressed  a  letter  to  the  count,  expressing  his  readi- 
ness to  commence  the  necessary  conferences. 

A  meeting  accordingly  took  place,  but  resulted 
m  no  benefit,  beyond  the  mutual  esteem  and  inti- 
macy of  the  two  ministers.  Count  Aranda  was  one 
of  the  richest  subjects  of  Spain,  and  he  lived  at 
Paris  in  great  splendor.  His  assortment  of  Avines 
was  perhaps  the  finest  in  Europe.  Instead  of  pur- 
chasing, as  usual,  of  the  dealers,  he  employed  agents 
to   explore   the   wine    countries,   and   to   select   the 


JOHN    JAY.  75 

choicest  kinds  at  the  vineyards  -»vliere  they  were 
made.  His  plate,  of  which  he  had  a  profusion,  wtis 
kept  constantly  burnished  by  a  silversmith,  maintained 
in  the  house  for  that  purpose,  so  that  it  always 
appeared  new. 

He  had  the  character  of  being  extremely  inflexible, 
and  the  following  anecdote  is  told  of  him.  He  was 
one  day  disputing  a  point  with  the  king  with  much 
earnestness,  when  the  latter,  who  was  also  remarkable 
for  a  hard  head,  said  to  him — "Aranda,  you  are  the 
most  obstinate  man  of  all  Arragon."  "No,  sire,"  replied 
the  count;  "there  is  one  still  more  obstinate  than  I 
am."  "And  who  is  that?"  said  the  king.  "The 
king  of  Arragon ! "  answered  the  count.  The  king 
laughed,  and  took  no  offence  at  the  freedom. 

The  part  taken  by  France  in  our  revolution  was 
dictated  wholly  by  policy ;  it  did  not  proceed  from  a 
sense  of  right,  or  a  love  of  justice,  or  a  desire  to  pro- 
mote the  cause  of  liberty  ;  but  from  a  desire  to  cripple 
England,  her  enemy.  When  the  war  was  drawing 
to  a  close,  and  the  independence  of  America  was  cer- 
tain, the  cabinet  at  Paris  began  to  consider  w"hat 
ultimate  benefits  could  be  derived  from  the  exertions 
they  had  made  in  our  behalf.  It  seemed  to  them 
desirable  that  the  new  republic  should,  as  far  as  possi- 
ble, continue  to  be  dependent  upon  her  old  ally,  and 
for  this  purpose  they  sought  rather  to  restrain  than 
enlarge  her  power.  They,  therefore,  desired  to  narrow 
her  boundaries,  to  exclude  her  from  the  navigation  of 
the  Mississippi,  and  to  prevent  a  liberal  treaty  with 
England,  which  might  establish  amicable  relations 
with  that  country. 


76  JOHN    JAY. 

To  enable  him  to  accomplish  these  objects,  the 
French  minister,  Vergennes,  by  a  series  of  intrigues, 
induced  congress  to  instruct  their  ambassadors  at 
Paris,  who  were  about  to  enter  upon  negotiations  with 
England,  to  govern  themselves  by  the  advice  of  the 
French  court.  This  placed  the  American  ministers 
virtually  under  the  dictation' of  France.  Such  a  posi- 
tion seemed  to  Mr.  Jay  humihating  to  America  and 
her  agents,  and  he  strongly  remonstrated  against  it. 

It  was  not  till  the  25lh  of  July,  that  the  British 
ministry  took  a  decided  step  for  commencing  negotia- 
tions with  the  American  commissioners.  On  that  day 
the  king  issued  an  order  to  the  attorney  general,  to 
prepare  a  commission  to  Richard  Oswold,  empowering 
him  "  to  treat,  consult  of,  and  conclude  with  any  com- 
missioner or  commissioners  named,  or  to  be  named  by 
the  thirteen  colonies  or  plantations  ia  North  America, 
and  any  body,  or  bodies,  corporate  or  politic,  or  any 
assembly  or  assemblies,  or  description  of  men,  or  any 
person  or  persons,  whatever,  a  peace  or  truce  with  the 
said  colonies  ox  plantations,  or  any  part  thereof" 

The  French  minister  thought  this  commission  suf- 
ficient, and  Dr.  Franklin  approved  of  it ;  but  Mr.  Jay 
objected  to  entering  upon  negotiations,  as  colonies,  and 
by  the  decisive  measures  he  took,  independent  of  his 
colleague,  the  king  of  Great  Britain  removed  the  dif- 
ficulty by  authorizing  Mr.  Oswold  to  treat  with  the 
commissioners  of  the  United  States  of  America. 
Thus  was  an  acknowledgment  of  our  independence 
extorted  from  the  mother  country. 

In  October,  1782,  John  Adams,  one  of  our  commis- 
sioners, arrived  at  Paris.      He  fully  concurred  in  the 


JOHN   JAY.  77 

views  of  Jay,  and  sought  to  enlighten  Dr.  Franklin 
as  to  the  sinister  views  of  the  French  court.  In  this 
he  succeeded,  and  consequently  the  commissioners, 
disregarding  the  instructions  of  congress  to  submit 
themselves  to  the  dictation  of  France,  proceeded 
independently  in  the  negotiations  Avith  Mr.  Oswold. 
These  were  soon  brought  to  a  successful  issue,  and  a 
provisional  treaty  was  signed,  securing  our  right  to 
participation  in  the  fisheries  of  Newfoundland,  the 
navigation  of  the  Mississippi,  and  a  territory  of  which 
that  river  was  the  western  boundary.  Thus  were  the 
sinister  designs  of  the  French  minister  baffled,  through 
the  firmness  and  sagacity  of  Jay,  seconded  by  Adams. 
Mr.  Lawrence,  the  fourth  commissioner  of  the  United 
States,  arrived  soon  after,  and  his  name  was  attached 
to  the  treaty. 

The  character  of  the  French  minister  may  be 
inferred  from  an  incident  that  occurred  during  these 
negotiations. 

Mr.  Jay  was  one  evening  in  conference  with  Mr. 
Oswold,  when  the  latter,  wishing  to  consult  his  in- 
structions, unlocked  his  escritoire ;  when,  to  his  great 
astonishment  and  alarm,  he  discovered  that  the  paper 
was  missing.  Mr.  Jay  smiled,  and  told  him  to  give 
himself  no  concern  about  the  document,  as  he  would 
certainly  find  it  in  its  place  as  soon  as  the  French 
minister  had  done  with  it.  In  a  few  days  the  predic- 
tion was  verified. 

The  minister  had  caused  the  document  to  be  stolen, 

probably  by  bribing  a  servant ;    and  when   he    had 

taken  a  copy  of  it,  it  was  returned.     So  v/ell  apprized 

of  the  artifices  of  the  French  government  was  Mr. 

7* 


78  JOHN    JAY. 

Jay,  that  he  always  carried  his  confidential  papers  in 
his  pocket. 

Mr.  Jay  continued  in  England  as  one  of  our  com- 
missioners, to  settle  the  definitive  treaty  with  Eng- 
land. This  was  accomplished  in  August,  1783,  the 
provisional  treaty,  before  mentioned,  being  adopted  as 
its  basis.  Having  visited  England  for  his  health,  and 
adjusted  his  accounts,  he  set  out  on  his  return,  and 
arrived  at  New  York  July  24,  17S4. 

He  Avas  soon  elected  a  member  of  congress,  and,  in 
17S5,  accepted  the  ofRce  of  secretary  of  foreign  afTairs, 
in  which  station  he  continued  till  the  office  expired 
with  the  termination  of  the  confederation.  On  the 
17th  September,  1787,  the  convention,  which  had  met 
at  Philadelphia  for  the  purpose,  submitted  a  constitu- 
tion to  a  convention  of  each  state,  for  ratification  or 
rejection. 

Although  this  constitution  did  not  in  all  respects 
equal  the  wishes  of  Mr.  Jay,  its  superiority  to  the 
articles  of  confederation  was  too  obvious  to  i permit 
him  to  hesitate  to  give  it  his  support.  The  oppo- 
sition to  it,  however,  became  active  and  virulent,  and 
it  was  studiously  inflamed  by  gross  misrepresentation. 
At  this  momentous  crisis,  Mr.  Jay  united  with  Mr. 
Madison  and  Colonel  Hamilton  in  an  attempt  to 
enlighten  and  direct  the  public  opinion  by  a  series  of 
newspaper  essays,  under  the  title  of  the  Federalist. 
These  papers  were  not  only  circulated  throughout 
the  Union  by  means  of  the  periodical  press,  but  were 
collected  and  published  in  two  volumes,  and  have 
since  passed  through  many  editions ;  they  have  been 
translated  into  French,  and  still  form  a  valuable  stan- 


JOHN    JAY.  79 

dard  commentary  on  the  constitution  of  the  United 
States, 

Mr.  Jay  was  elected  a  member  of  the  convention  of 
New  York,  to  consider  the  proposed  constitution,  and, 
seconded  by  HamiUon  and  Chancellor  Livingston, 
gave  it  able  support.  After  a  deliberation  of  three 
weeks,  he  moved  its  acceptance,  which  was  finally 
carried,  July  26,  17S8,  by  a  majority  of  three  votes. 

Washington  being  elected  president  under  the  new 
constitution,  reached  New  York,  April  23,  17S9, 
and,  on  the  30th,  took  the  oath  of  office.  At  nine 
o'clock  on  that  day,  all  the  churches  of  New  York 
were  opened,  and  the  several  congregations,  with  their 
pastors,  assembled  for  the  purpose  of  solemnly  invok- 
ing the  blessing  of  Heaven  upon  the  new  government. 
After  the  president's  address  to  congress,  he,  with  both 
houses,  attended  divine  service  at  St.  Paul's,  to  render 
thanks  to  the  Supreme  Being  for  the  successful 
establishment  of  the  government,  and  to  implore  the 
•  divine  blessing.  Thus  was  our  union  founded  in  the 
piety  and  prayers  of  our  fathers. 

Mr,  Jay  officiated  as  secretary  of  state,  till  Mr.  Jef- 
ferson should  arrive  from  Europe,  to  take  charge  of 
its  duties.  But  having  accepted  the  office  of  chief 
justice  of  the  United  States,  he  held  the  first  circuit 
court,  at  New  York,  April  3,  1790.  Continuing  to 
discharge  the  duties  of  this  high  office,  he  was  a  can- 
didate for  governor  of  his  native  state  in  1792,  and 
received  a  majority  of  votes;  but  the  canvassers  set 
aside  a  portion  of  the  returns,  as  being  informal,  a?ad 
the  democratic  candidate,  George  Clinton,  was  declarea 
elected. 


so  JOHN    JAY. 

In  the  spring  of  1794,  Mr.  Jay  was  appointed 
ambassador  to  England,  with  a  view  to  adjust  the  dif- 
ficnhies  which  had  grown  up  with  that  country,  and 
which  had  for  some  time  threatened  the  return  of 
war.  He  embarked  May  12th,  and  reached  Fal- 
mouth in  June.  With  his  usual  promptitude  he 
immediately  announced  his  arrival  to  Lord  Grenville, 
the  British  secretary  of  foreign  affairs.  In  a  few 
days  after,  he  reached  London. 

Three  objects  were  contemplated  by  Mr.  Jay's 
instructions.  These  were  compensation  for  the 
losses  sustained  by  American  merchants,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  orders  in  council;  a  settlement  of  all 
existing  disputes  in  relation  to  the  treaty  of  peace, 
and  a  commercial  treaty.  The  confidence  placed  by 
the  president  in  his  envoy,  led  him  to  direct  him  to 
consider  his  instructions  merely  in  the  light  of  recom- 
mendations. 

Lord  Grenville  was  duly  commissioned  by  the  king 
to  treat  with  Mr.  Jay,  and  the  sincerity  and  candor  of 
the  two  negotiators  soon  led  to  a  degree  of  mutual 
confidence,  that  both  facilitated  and  lightened  their 
labors.  Instead  of  adopting  the  usual  wary  but  tedious 
mode  of  reducing  every  proposition  and  reply  to 
writing,  they  conducted  the  negotiations  chiefly  by 
conferences,  in  which  the  parties  frankly  stated  their 
several  views,  and  suggested  the  way  in  which  the 
objections  to  those  views  might  be  obviated.  It  was 
understood  that  neither  party  was  to  be  committed  by 
what  passed  in  these  conversations ;  but  that  the 
propositions  made  in  them  might  be  recalled  or  modi- 
fied at  pleasure.     In  this  manner  the  two  ministers 


JOHN    JAY.  81 

speedily  discovered  on  what  points  they  could  agree, 
where  their  views  were  irreconcilable,  and  on  Avhat 
principles  a  compromise  could  be  effected. 

Proceeding  in  this-manner,  the  treaty  was  at  length 
formed,  and  signed  on  the  19th  of  November.  In 
May,  he  returned  to  New  York,  and  found  that,  two 
days  previous  to  his  arrival,  he  had  been  elected  gov- 
ernor of  his  native  state,  by  a  large  majority.  He 
was  received  with  enthusiasm  by  the  people,  and, 
resigning  his  office  of  chief  justice,  took  the  oath  as 
governor,  on  the  1st  of  July. 

Mr.  Jay  had  foreseen  the  opposition  which  his 
treaty  was  likely  to  meet,  in  America,  from  several 
sources, — a  desire  to  embarrass  Washington's  admin-' 
istration,  a  hatred  of  England,  and  a  predilection  for 
France.  Even  before  its  contents  were  known,  a 
furious  attack  upon  it  was  commenced.  The  follow- 
ing extract  from  one  of  the  democratic  organs  of  the 
period,  will  show  the  spirit  of  the  time  : 

"  No  treaty  ought  to  have  been  made  with  Great 
Britain,  for  she  is  famed  for  perfidy  and  double  deal- 
ing.; her  polar  star  is  interest ;  artifice  with  her  is  a 
substitute  for  nature.  To  make  a  treaty  with  Great 
Britain  is  forming  a  connection  with  a  monarch ;  and 
the  introduction  of  the  fashions,  forms  and  precedents 
of  the  monarchical  governments  has  ever  accelerated 
the  destruction  of  republics.  If  foreign  connections 
are  to  be  formed,  they  ought  to  be  made  with  nations 
whose  influence  would  not  poison  the  fountain  of 
liberty,  and  circulate  the  deleterious  streams  to  the 
destruction  of  the  rich  harvest  of  the  revolution. 
Fkance  is  our  natural  ally;  she  has  a  government 

F 


82  JOHN    JAY 

congenial  with  our  own.  There  can  be  no  hazard  of 
introducing  from  her  principles  and  practices  repug- 
nant to  freedom." 

The  democratic  societies  coitimenced  by  Genet 
were  likewise  active  in  exciting  opposition  to  the 
treaty,  and  in  preparing  the  public  mind  for  war  with 
England,  and  an  alliance  with  France.  A  society  in 
Virginia  thus  announced  its  wishes:  "Shall  we 
Americans,  who  have  kindled  the  spark  of  liberty, 
stand  aloof  and  see  it  extinguished,  when  burning  a 
bright  flame  in  France,  which  hath  caught  it  from  us? 
If  all  tyrants  unite  against  free  people,  should  not  all 
free  people  unite  against  tyrants  ?  Yes,  let  us  unite 
with  France,  and  stand  or  fall  together." 

As  yet,  the  contents  of  the  treaty,  as  propriety 
required  before  its  ratification,  had  been  kept  secret ; 
but,  on  the  29th  of  June,  a  senator  from  Virginia, 
regardless  both  of  the  rules  of  the  senate  and  of  offi- 
cial decorum,  sent  a  copy  of  it  to  a  democratic  printer 
in  Philadelphia,  Avho  published  it  on  the  2d  of  July. 
This  act  was  applying  the  torch  to  that  vast  mass  of 
combustibles,  which  the  party  had  long  been  engaged 
in  collecting,  and  the  intended  explosion  instantly 
followed.  On  the  4th,  a  great  mob  assembled  and 
paraded  the  streets,  with  an  effigy  of  Mr.  Jay,  bearing 
a  pair  of  scales  ;  one  labelled,  "  American  Liberty 
and  Independence,"  and  the  other,  which  was  in 
extreme  depression,  "  British  Gold ;"  while  from  the 
mouth  of  the  figure  proceeded  the  words,  "  Come  up 
to  my  price,  and  I  will  sell  you  my  country."  The 
effigy  was  afterwards  publicly  committed  to  the 
fiames.      No  time  was  lost  in  getting  up  meetings 


JOHN  JAY.  83 

throughout  the  country,  to  denounce  the  treaty;  and,  in 
many  instances,  inflammatory  resolutions,  previously 
prepared,  were  adopted  by  acclamation,  without 
examination  or  discussion.  Despite  these  formidable 
movements,  the  senate  sanctioned  the  treaty,  and 
Washington  gave  it  his  signature,  in  the  face  of 
threats  tliat  might  have  shaken  less  steady  nerves. 
The  last  hope  of  the  opposition  lay  in  the  house  of 
representatives.  Here  an  attempt  Avas  made  to  defeat 
ilie  measure,  by  refusing  to  pass  the  laws  necessary 
to  carry  it  into  effect.  The  democratic  party  had  a 
large  majority  in  this  body,  and  every  efibrt  was 
made,  both  in  and  out  of  the  house,  to  bring  them  up 
to  an  adverse  decision.  The  subject  was  debated 
with  great  power,  and  it  was  during  this  discussion 
that  Fisher  Ames,  of  Massachusetts,  pronounced  one 
of  the  most  eloquent  speeches  that  ever  fell  from 
human  lips.  Its  effect  was  deepened  by  his  condi- 
tion ;  he  was  wasted  and  pale  with  consumption.  As 
he  rose,  it  seemed  indeed  that  he  had  hardly  strength 
to  speak.  As  he  proceeded,  his  countenance  gathered 
brightness,  and  his  tones,  force  and  fervor.  The 
power  of  his  argument, — the  solemn  earnestness  of 
his  manner, — the  prophetic  wisdom  of  his  views,  all 
spoken  while  standing  on  the  verge  of  the  grave, — 
gave  his  speech  almost  supernatural  force.  In  point- 
ing out  the  evils  which  must  follow  the  rejection  of 
the  treaty,  he  adverted  to  the  certain  renewal  of 
the  Indian  war  at  the  west,  in  the  following  terms : 

"  On  this  theme  my  emotions  are  unutterable.  If 
I  could  find  words  for  them, — if  my  powers  bore  any 
proportion  to  my  zeal, — I  would  swell  my  voice  to  such 


84  JOHN  JAY. 

a  note  of  remonstrance,  that  it  should  reach  eveiy  log- 
house  beyond  the  mountains.  I  would  say  to  the  in- 
habitants,— wake  from  your  false  security  ;  your  cruel 
dangers,  your  more  cruel  apprehensions,  are  soon  to 
be  renewed ;  the  wounds  yet  unhealed  are  to  be  torn 
open  again;  in  the  daytime,  your  path  through  the 
woods  will  be  ambushed;  the  darkness  of  midnight 
will  glitter  with  the  blaze  of  -your  dwellings.  You 
are  a  father, — the  blood  of  your  sons  shall  fatten  your 
field.  You  are  a  mother, — the  war-whoop  shall  wake 
the  sleep  of  the  cradle  ! 

•  "  It  is  vain  to  ofier  as  an  excuse,  that  public  men 
are  not  to  be  reproached  for  the  evils  that  may  happen 
to  ensue  from  their  measures.  This  is  very  true, . 
where  they  are  unforeseen  or  inevitable.  Those  I 
have  depicted  are  not  unforeseen.  They  are  so  far 
from  inevitable,  that  we  are  going  to  bring  them  into 
being  by  our  vote ;  we  choose  the  consequences,  and 
become  as  justly  answerable  for  them,  as  for  the 
measure  that  we  know  will  produce  them. 

"  By  rejecting  the  treaty,  we  light  the  savage  fires, 
we  bind  the  victims.  This  day  we  undertake  to 
render  account  to  the  widovv's  and  orphans  whom  our 
decision  will  make;  to  the  wretches  that  will  be  roasted 
at  the  stake  ;  to  our  country,  and,  I  do  not  deem  it  too 
serious  to  say,  to  conscience  and  to  God.  We  are 
answerable;  and  if  duty  be  anything  more  than  a 
word  of  imposture,  if  conscience  be  not  a  bug-bear, 
Ave  are  preparing  to  make  ourselves  as  wretched  as 
our  country. 

"  There  is  no  mistake  in  this  case — there  can  be 
none;  experience  has  already  been  the  prophet  of 


JOHN    JAY.  85 

events,  and  the  cries  of  our  future  victims  have 
already  reached  us.  The  western  inhabitants  are  not 
a  silent  and  uncomplaining  sacrifice.  The  voice  of 
humanity  issues  from  the  shade  of  the  wilderness ;  it 
exclaims  that  while  one  hand  is  held  up  to  reject  this 
treaty,  the  other  grasps  a  tomahawk.  It  summons 
our  imagination  to  the  scenes  that  will  open.     It  is 

00  great  effort  of  the  imagination  to  conceive  that 
events  so  near  are  already  begun.     I  can  fancy  that 

1  listen  to  the  yells  of  savage  vengeance  and  the 
jhrieks  of  torture ;  already  they  seem  to  sigh  in  the 
western  wind ;  already  they  mingle  with  every  echo 
jrom  the  mountains." 

At  the  outset  of  the  discussion,  it  was  supposed  that 
the  house  would  decide  against  the  treaty ;  but  when 
the  gulf  into  which  party  spirit  was  about  to  plunge 
the  country  was  laid  open,  some  of  the  leaders  of  the 
opposition  began  to  shriilk  from  the  responsibility  of 
taking  the  leap.  After  a  protracted  and  heated  dis- 
cussion, the  question  was  taken — and,  thirteen  of  the 
democratic  party  voting  to  sustain  the  treaty,  the  house 
was  equally  divided.  The  speaker  gave  his  casting 
vote  in  its  favor,  and  it  went  into  operation.  Its  results 
proved  it  to  be  one  of  the  wisest  and  most  beneficent 
measures  in  the  history  of  our  government. 

]\Ir.  Jay  discharged  the  duties  of  governor  of  New 
York  with  great  ability,  and  was  a  second  time 
elected  to  that  office.  He  was  offered  again  the  post 
of  chief  justice  of  the  United  States,  but  this  he 
declined.  In  1801,  having  been  in  public  life  twenty- 
seven  years,  and  now  being  fifty-six  years  old,  he  left 
Albany,  where  he  had  resided  since  he  was  governor, 
VI.— 8 


86  JOHN    JAY. 

and  settled  upon  his  estate  in  Bedford,  about  fifty 
miles  northeast  of  New  York.  Here  he  spent  the 
remainder  of  his  days  in  the  bosom  of  his  family,  and 
in  the  peaceful  and  unostentatious  discharge  of  the 
duties  which  religion  and  benevolence  demand. 

About  this  time  the  religious  associations  were 
formed  in  our  country  for  the  dissemination  of  the 
Scriptures.  To  them  he  was  a  sincere  friend.  In 
1821,  upon  the  death  of  the  venerable  Elias  Bowdi- 
not,  president  of  the  American  Bible  Society,  Mr. 
Jay  was  chosen  his  successor.  He  discharged  the 
duties  of  the  station  till  1828,  when  his  declining 
health  obliged  him  to  resign.  He  accompanied  this 
act  by  a  liberal  donation  to  the  society. 

In  May,  1829,  he  was  seized  in  the  night  with  the 
palsy ;  medical  skill  was  obtained,  but  nothing  could 
be  done  to  arrest  the  disease.  His  speech  was  af- 
fected, but  his  mind  seemed  clear.  He  lingered  till 
the  seventeenth,  when  he  died,  in  the  eighty-fourth 
year  of  his  age. 

Mr.  Jay  had  survived  nearly  all  who  had  ever  been 
personally  opposed  to  him  in  politics.  His  character 
had  triumphed  over  the  calumnies  by  which  it  had 
been  assailed  ;  his  long  retirement  had  exempted  him 
from  all  participation  in  the  conflicts  and  animosities 
of  modern  parties;  and  when  he  left  the  world,  he 
probably  left  no  one  in  it  who  harbored  an  unkind 
feeling  towards  him.  Hence,  the  intelligence  of  his 
death  called  forth  from  men  of  all  parties  willing 
attestations  of  his  worth.  The  public  journals,  how- 
ever discordant  on  other  topics,  united  in  doing  justice 
to  his  memory.     The  judges  and  members  of  the  bar 


JOHN    JAY. 


87 


of  the  county  court  put  on  mourning  for  thirty  days, 
and  the  supreme  court  of  the  state,  being  in  session 
when  the  news  of  his  death  was  received,  immedi- 
ately adjourned,  as  a  mark  of  respect;  and,  by  order 
of  congress,  a  bust  of  the  first  chief  justice  has  since 
been  executed,  and  placed  in  the  chamber  of  the 
supreme  court  of  the  United  States. 

The  character  of  Mr.  Jay  may  be  gathered  from 
the  acts  recorded  m  the  preceding  pages.  In  its  sim- 
plicity, harmony,  equanimity,  and  patriotism,  it  bears 
a  strong  resemblance  to  that  of  Washington.  It 
would  seem  that  his  affections  were  strong — his  love 
of  country  fervent ;  yet  he  appeared  to  be  prompted 
even  by  higher  motives  of  action.  A  sense  of 
future  accountability  seems  to  have  been  ever  present 
to  his  mind,  and  to  have  made  him  think  the  judg- 
ments of  men  as  dust  in  the  balance,  compared  with 
the  realities  of  a  future  reckoning.  He  was  a  friend 
to  churches  and  schools ;  an  ardent  advocate  of  the 
abolition  of  slavery ;  a  Christian,  a  patriot,  and  a  phi- 
lanthropist. 

In  manner,  he  was  modest  and  simple.  Though  few 
men  have  done  so  much,  in  any  age  or  country,  he 
assumed  no  importance,  claimed  no  deference,  boasted 
no  merit.  A  stranger  might  have  lived  with  him  for 
months,  and  never  have  known,  from  his  lips,  the  his- 
tory of  his  great  deeds.  As  a  writer,  he  was  among 
the  first  of  his  time ;  his  wisdom  was  deep ;  his  mind 
penetrating  and  far-sighted ;  his  judgment  cool,  cir- 
cumspect, and  seldom  mistaken. 

Mr.  Jay's  religion  was  fervent,  but  mild  and  unos- 
tentatious.    Throuo-h  life,  he   continued  a  member 


SS  JOHN    JAY. 

of  the  Episcopal  church,  and  approved  the  doctrines 
and  policy  maintained  by  that  portion  of  the  denomi- 
nation which  is  distinguished  as  the  low  Church. 
While  his  health  permitted,  he  was  regular  in  his 
attendance  on  public  worship,  and  was  always  a 
scrupulous,  but  not  superstitious  observer  of  the  Sab- 
bath. On  the  whole,  his  life  exhibits  a  rare  but 
interesting  picture  of  the  Christian  patriot  and  states- 
man, and  justifies  the  reverence  for  his  character  so 
eloquently  described  in  an  address  delivered  soon  after 
his  death: 

"  A  halo  of  veneration  seemed  to  encircle  him  as 
one  belonging  to  another  world,  though  lingering 
among  us.  When  the  tidings  of  his  death  came  to 
us,  they  were  received  through  the  nation,  not  with 
sorrow  or  mourning,  but  with  solemn  awe,  like  that 
with  which  we  read  the  mysterious  passage  of  ancient 
scripture,  'And  Enoch  walked  with  God,  and  he  was 
not,  for  God  took  him.'" 


PATRICK   HENRY. 

Patrick  Henry  was  born  in  the  county  of  Hanover, 
Virginia,  May  29th,  1736.     His  parents,=^  though  not 


*  His  father,  Colonel  John  Henr)',  was  a  native  of  Aberdeen, 
Scotland,  and  came  to  Virginia  to  seek  his  fortune  about  1730. 
He  was  a  man  of  liberal  education,  of  sound  judgment,  great 
integrity  and  fervent  piety.  His  mother,  the  widow  of  Colonel 
Syme,  at  the  time  of  her  marriage  to  Mr.  Henry,  was  a  native 
of  Hanover  county.  She  was  a  woman  of  excellent  character, 
and  marked  by  fine  powers  of  conversation,  said  to  be  heredi- 
tary in  her  family. 

8* 


90  PATRICK    HENRY. 

rich,  were  in  easy  circumstances,  and,  in  point  of 
character,  were  among  the  most  respectable  inhabitants 
of  the  colony.  Until  ten  years  of  age,  Patrick  was 
sent  to  school  in  the  neighborhood,  where  he  learned 
to  read  and  write,  and  made  some  small  progress  in 
arithmetic.  He  was  then  taken  home,  and,  under  the 
direction  of  his  father,  who  had  opened  a  grammar 
school  in  his  own  house,  he  acquired  a  superficial 
knowledge  of  the  Latin,  and  learned  to  read  the  Greek 
character,  but  never  to  translate  the  language.  At 
the  same  time,  he  made  considerable  proficiency  in 
mathematics,  the  only  branch  of  education  for  which, 
it  seems,  he  discovered  in  his  youth  the  slightest  pre- 
dilection. 

But  he  was  too  idle  to  gain  any  solid  advantage 
from  the  opportunities  that  were  thrown  in  his  way. 
He  was  passionately  addicted  to  the  sports  of  the  field, 
and  could  not  support  the  confinement  and  toil  which 
education  required.  Hence,  instead  of  system,  or  any 
semblance  of  regularity  in  his  studies,  his  efforts  were 
always  desultory,  and  they  became  more  and  more 
rare,  until,  at  length,  when  the  hour  of  his  school 
exercises  arrived,  Patrick  was  scarcely  ever  to  be 
found.  He  was  in  the  forest  with  his  gun,  or  over 
the  brook  with  his  angle  rod ;  and  in  these  frivolous 
occupations,  when  not  controlled  by  the  authority  of 
his  father — which  was  rarely  exerted — he  would  spend 
whole  days,  and  even  weeks,  with  an  appetite  rather 
whetted  that  cloyed  by  enjoyment. 

His  school-fellows,  having  observed  his  passion  for 
these  amusements,  v/atched  his  movements,  to  dis- 
cover, if  they  could,  the  cause  of  that  delight  which 


PATRICK   HENRY.  91 

they  seemed  to  aflbrd  him.  Their  conclusion  was, 
that  he  loved  idleness  for  its  own  sake.  They  often 
observed  him  lying  under  the  shade  of  some  tree  that 
overhung  the  sequestered  stream,  watching  for  hours 
the  motionless  cork  of  his  fishing  line,  without  one 
encouraging  symptom  of  success,  and  without  any 
apparent  source  of  enjoyment,  unless  he  could  find  it ' 
in  the  ease  of  his  posture,  or  in  the  illusions  of  hope, 
or,  which  is  most  probable,  in  the  stillness  of  the  scene, 
and  the  silent  workings  of  his  own  imagination.  His 
love  of  solitude  in  his  youth,  was  often  observed.  Even 
when  in  society,  his  enjoyments  were  of  a  peculiar 
cast ;  he  did  not  mix  in  the  wild  mirth  of  his  equals 
in  age,  but  sat  quiet  and  demure,  taking  no  part  in 
the  conversation,  giving  no  responsive  smile  to  the 
circulating  jest,  but  lost  to  all  appearance  in  silence 
and  abstraction.  His  absence  of  mind,  however,  was 
only  apparent;  for,  on  the  dispersion  of  the  company, 
if  interrogated  by  his  parents  as  to  what  had  been 
passing,  he  was  able  not  only  to  detail  the  conversa- 
tion, but  to  sketch,  with  strict  fidelity,  the  character  of 
every  speaker. 

It  does  not  appear  that  he  displayed  any  of  that 
precoc'ty  which  sometimes  distinguishes  uncommon 
genius.  His  companions  recollect  no  instance  of  pre- 
mature wit,  no  striking  sentiment,  no  flash  of  fancy, 
no  remarkable  beauty  or  strength  of  expression ;  and 
no  indication,  however  slight,  either  of  that  impas- 
sioned love  of  liberty  or  of  that  adventurous  daring 
and  intrepidity  which  marked  so  strongly  his  subse- 
quent character.  So  far  was  he,  indeed,  from  exhibit- 
ing any  one  prognostic  of  this  greatness,  that  every 


92  PATRICK   HENRY. 

omen  foretold  a  life  at  best  of  mediocrity,  if  not  of 
insignificance.  His  person  is  represented  as  having 
been  coarse,  his  manners  uncommonly  awk\A-ard,  his 
dress  slovenly,  his  conversation  very  plain,  his  aver- 
sion to  study  invincible,  and  his  faculties  almost 
entirely  benumbed  by  indolence.  No  persuasion 
could  bring  him  either  to  read  or  work.  On  the  con- 
trary, he  ran  wild  in  the  forest,  like  one  of  the  abori- 
gines of  the  country,  and  divided  his  life  between  the 
dissipation  and  uproar  of  the  chase,  and  the  languor 
of  inaction. 

The  propensity  to  observe  and  comment  upon  the 
human  character,  was  the  only  trait  that  distinguished 
him  at  this  early  period.  This  tendency  appears  to 
have  been  born  Avith  him,  and  to  have  exerted  itself 
instinctively,  Avhenever  a  new  subject  was  presented 
to  his  view.  Its  action  was  incessant,  and  became,  at 
length,  almost  the  only  intellectual  exercise  in  which 
he  seemed  to  take  delight.  To  this  cause  may  be 
traced  that  consummate  knowledge  of  the  human 
heart  which  he  finally  attained,  and  which  enabled 
him,  when  he  came  upon  the  public  stage,  to  touch  the 
springs  of  passion  with  a  master  hand. 

When  Patrick  had  reached  the  age  of  fifteen,  his 
father,  finding  it  inconvenient  to  sustain  the  expenses 
of  his  large  and  increasing  family,  placed  him  behind 
the  counter  of  a  country  merchant.  The  next  year  he 
purchased  a  small  amount  of  goods  for  Patrick  and 
"William  his  elder  brother,  and,  according  to  the  lan- 
guage of  the  country,  they  set  up  in  trade.  Unhap- 
pily, they  were  both  destitute  of  those  habits  of  indus- 
try, energy  and  attention,  which  were  indispensable  to 


PATRICK    HENRY.  93 

success  in  their  present  pursuit.  The  business  of  ihe 
store  soon  rushed  to  its  catastrophe,  and  at  the  end  of 
the  year  it  was  closed.  William  was  thrown  loose 
upon  society,  and  for  a  time  was  addicted  to  dissipa- 
tion. Patrick  was  engaged  for  two  or  three  years  in 
winding  up  his  disastrous  experiment  in  trade.  During 
the  confinement  of  this  period,  he  solaced  himself  with 
music,  and  learned  to  play  well  on  the  violin  and  on 
the  flute.  From  music,  he  passed  to  books,  and, 
having  procured  a  few  light  and  elegant  authors, 
acquired,  for  the  first  time,  a  relish  for  reading. 

Adversity  does  not  seem  to  have  taught  him  pru- 
dence. At  the  age  of  eighteen,  he  married  Miss  Shel- 
ton,  the  daughter  of  a  poor,  but  honest  farmer  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  the  young  couple  Avere  soon  settled 
upon  a  small  farm.  Assisted  by  one  or  two  slaves, 
Henry  began  to  delve  the  earth  with  his  own  hands ; 
but  he  could  not  endure  systematic  labor,  and  at  the 
end  of  two  years,  selling  out  his  possessions,  he  again 
turned  merchant.  But  his  early  habits  still  continued 
to  haunt  him.  The  same  want  of  method,  the  same 
facility  of  temper,  soon  became  apparent,  by  their 
ruinous  effects.  He  resumed  his  violin,  his  flute,  his 
books,  his  curious  inspection  of  human  nature ;  and 
not  unfrequently  ventured  to  shut  up  his  store,  and 
indulge  himself  in  the  favorite  sports  of  his  youth. 

This  second  mercantile  experiment  was  still  more 
unfortunate  than  the  first.  In  a  few  years,  it  left  him 
a  bankrupt,  and  placed  him  in  a  situation  than  which 
it  is  difficult  to  conceive  one  more  wretched.  Every 
atom  of  his  property  was  now  gone ;  his  friends  were 
■inable  to  assist  him  any  farther ;  he  had  tried  ev?ry 


94  PATRICK    HENRY. 

means  of  support,  of  which  he  could  suppose  himself 
capable,  and  every  one  had  failed;  ruin  was  behind 
him  ;  poverty,  debt,  want  and  famine  before  ;  and,  as 
if  his  cup  of  misery  were  not  already  full,  here  were  a 
suffering  wife  and  children  to  make  it  overflow. 

But,  though  Henry  possessed  acuteness  of  feeling, 
he  had  great  firmness  of  character,  as  well  as  an 
unvarying  cheerfulness  of  temper.  His  misfortunes, 
even  at  this  period,  could  not  be  traced  in  his  counte- 
nance or  conduct.  His  passion  was  still  music,  danc- 
ing and  pleasantry.  He  excelled  in  the  last,  and  thus 
attached  every  one  to  him.  As  yet,  however,  no  one 
had  suspected  the  extraordinary  powers  of  his  mind. 

Having  failed  in  all  other  attempts,  he  at  last 
determined  to  make  a  trial  of  the  law.  He  studied 
six  weeks,  and,  being  examined,  obtained  a  license, 
though  with  difficulty.  He  was  now  at  the  age  of 
twenty-four.  Of  the  science  of  law,  he  knew  almost 
nothing;  of  the  practical  part,  he  was  so  wholly 
ignorant,  that  he  was  not  only  unable  to  draw  a 
declaration  or  a  plea,  but  incapable,  it  is  said,  of  the 
most  common  and  simple  business  of  his  profession; 
even  of  the  mode  of  ordering  a  suit,  giving  a  notice, 
or  making  a  motion  in  court. 

For  several  years,  he  lingered  in  the  back-ground 
of  his  profession.  During  this  period  his  family  was 
reduced  to  extreme  want;  and,  to  obtain  the  necessaries 
of  life,  he  was  obliged  to  take  up  his  residence  with 
his  wife's  father,  who  now  kept  the  tavern  at  the 
Hanover  Court-House.  In  his  absence,  Patrick  Henry 
was  accustomed  to  receive  the  guests  and  provide  for 
their  entertainment. 


PATRICK   HENRY.  95 

But  the  clouds,  which  had  thus  far  ohscurcd  his 
existence,  were  about  to  pass  away.  The  Episcopal 
religion  Avas  established  by  law  in  Virginia,  and  the 
clergy  had  each  a  right  to  claim  an  annual  stipend  of 
sixteen  thousand  pounds  of  tobacco.  Various  acts  in 
relation  to  this  were  passed,  one  of  which  gave  the 
people  the  right  of  paying  the  tobacco  at  a  certain  rate 
per  pound.  It  became,  at  last,  a  question  whether 
this  right  existed  or  not;  and,  as  the  tobacco  was  worth 
more  than  the  rate  fixed  by  law,  the  clergy  had  an 
interest  to  maintain  the  privilege  of  talcing  the  tobacco 
and  not  the  money.  The  case  that  arose,  and  which 
was  to  determine  the  whole  question,  was  a  suit  of 
Rev.  James  Murray,  against  the  collector  of  Hanover. 
Already  a  partial  decision,  favorable  to  the  claims  of 
the  clergy,  had  taken  place,  and  hardly  a  more  hope- 
less case  could  have  been  chosen,  than  that  of  the 
defendant,  in  which  Henry  was  now  to  commence  his 
career  as  an  advocate. 

The  array  before  his  eyes,  as  he  was  about  to  begin 
his  plea,  was  indeed  formidable.  On  the  bench  were 
more  than  twenty  clergymen.  The  court-house  was 
crowded  to  excess,  and  in  the  chair  of  the  presiding 
magistrate  sat  his  own  father !  The  opposing  coun- 
sel opened  the  cause,  and,  after  a  flourishing  speech, 
concluded  with  an  eulogium  upon  the  clerg}'.  And 
now  came  on  the  first  trial  of  Patrick  Henry's  strength. 
No  one  had  ever  heard  him  speak,  and  curiosity  was 
on  tiptoe.  He  rose  awkwardly,  and  faltered  at  the 
outset.  The  people  hung  their  heads ;  the  cleigy 
exchanged  sly  looks,  and  his  father  almost  sunk  with 
confusion  from  his  seat. 


96  PATKICK    HENRY. 

But  these  feelings  were  brief.  Henry  seemed 
speedily  to  burst  the  clownish  fetters  Avhich  embar- 
rassed his  limbs,  and  the  impediments  which  fettered 
his  speech.  His  attitude  became  erect ;  his  counte- 
nance glowed ;  his  tones  became  mellow  and  touch- 
ing, and  his  words  flowed  like  a  torrent.  He  piled 
argument  upon  argument,  illustration  upon  illustra- 
tion. The  whole  crowd  around  seemed  fixed  with 
amazemerit  and  awe,  as  if  some  miracle  had  taken 
place  before  their  eyes.  Every  look  was  riveted  upon 
the  wonderful  speaker ;  every  ear  stretched  to  catch 
his  lightest  word :  the  mockery  of  the  clergy  was 
turned  to  alarm,  and,  at  one  burst  of  his  rapid  and 
overwhelming  invective,  they  left  the  bench,  discon- 
certed and  despairing  of  their  cause.  As  for  the 
father,  he  was  taken  completely  by  surprise,  and, 
unconscious  of  his  position,  gave  vent  to  his  feelings 
in  a  shower  of  tears.  The  jury,  captivated  and 
bewildered,  and  forgetting  even  the  obvious  right  of 
the  plaintiff  to  reasonable  damages,  brought  in  a  ver- 
dict of  one  penny.  This  was  indeed  a  triumph — 
though  it  was  at  the  expense  of  law  and  justice. 
The  event  caused  a  great  sensation,  and  was  long 
remembered.  It  was  the  custom  of  the  people  in 
that  quarter,  'for  many  subsequent  years,  to  express 
their  utmost  conception  of  eloquence  by  referring  to 
Pa/rick's  plea  against  the  parsons. 

Henry  found  himself  suddenly  elevated  to  the  sum- 
mit of  his  profession,  at  least  in  the  estimation  of  the 
people  around  him.  They  had  witnessed  the  display 
of  his  talents,  and  they  considered  him  as  having  vin- 
dicated their  cause  against  the  clergy.     He  saw  at 


PATRICK    HENRY.  97 

once  the  advantage  to  be  derived  from  cultivating 
their  good  will,  and  this  he  did  with  success.  He 
dressed  as  plain  as  the  plainest;  partook  of  the  homely 
fare  of  the  country ;  mixed  with  the  mass  on  terms  of 
equality,  and  even  continued  to  imitate  their  vicious 
language.  "Naiteral  parts  is  better  than  all  the 
larnin  upon  yearth"  is  given  by  his  biographer  as  a 
specimen  of  his  speech  in  condescension  to  the  cor- 
rupt standard  of  those  he  sought  to  flatter. 

His  practice  Avas  now  considerable,  and  his  fame 
was  rapidly  extended.  But  he  was  soon  called  to 
another  theatre  of  action,  where  his  highest  laurels 
were  won.  In  January,  1765,  the  famous  Stamp  Act 
was  passed  in  England.  A  general  feeling  of  alarm, 
attended  however  by  a  prevailing  disposition  to  sub- 
mit to  the  heavy  hand  of  tyranny,  spread  through  the 
country.  About  this  period  Henry  became  a  member 
of  the  house  of  burgesses  in  Virginia,  from  the  county 
of  Louisa,  whither  he  had  removed.  In  this  assembly 
he  met  a  galaxy  of  great  men,  but  chiefly  belonging 
to  the  old  aristocracy  of  the  colony. 

It  was  in  this  assembly  that  he  moved  his  famous 
resolutions,  which,  Mr.  Jefferson  said,  "gave  the 
first  impulse  to  the  ball  of  the  revolution."  Henry 
speaks  of  them  himself,  in  a  paper  he  left  for  his 
executors,  in  the  following  words  :  "They  formed  the 
first  opposition  to  the  stamp  act  and  the  scheme  of 
taxing  America  by  the  British  parliament.  All  the 
colonies,  either  through  fear,  or  want  of  opportunity 
to  form  an  opposition,  or  from  influence  of  some  kind 
or  other,  had  remained  silent.  I  had  been  for  the  first 
time  elected  a  burgess  a  few  days  before,  was  young, 

G  VI.— 9 


98  PATRICK    HENRY. 

inexperienced,  unacquainted  with  the  forms  of  the 
house  and  the  members  that  composed  it.  Finding 
the  men  of  weight  averse  to  opposition,  and  the  com- 
mencement of  the  tax  at  hand,  and  that  no  person  was 
likely  to  step  forth,  I  determined  to  venture ;  and  alone, 
unadvised  and  unassisted,  on  a  blank  leaf  of  an  old 
law  book,  wrote  the  within." 

These  resolutions  created  a  violent  debate,  which 
lasted  for  several  days.  The  leaders  of  the  house — 
Pendleton,  Wythe,  Bland,  Randolph — those  accus- 
tomed to  exert  a  despotic  sway,  resisted  them  with  all 
their  force.  Henry  supported  them  Avith  equal  ability. 
His  talents  seemed  to  rise  with  the  occasion,  and  his 
resources  to  multiply  with  the  force  he  had  to  encoun- 
ter. It  was  in  the  midst  of  this  great  debate,  that  he 
uttered  a  remarkable  passage  which  has  come  down 
to  our  time.  While  descanting  upon  the  tyranny  of 
the  ohnoxious  act,  he  exclaimed,  in  a  voice  of  thunder, 
and  with  a  look  of  great  dignity, — "  Caesar  had  his 
Brutus — Charles  the  First  his  Cromwell — and  George 
the  third — ("  Treason ! "  cried  the  speaker — "  treason, 
treason ! "  echoed  from  every  part  of  the  house.  It  was 
one  of  those  trying  moments  which  are  decisive  of 
character.  Henry  faltered  not  for  an  instant ;  but 
rising  to  a  loftier  attitude,  and  fixing  on  the  speaker 
an  eye  of  the  most  determined  fire,  he  finished  his 
sentence  with  the  fiercest  emphasis,) — ^nay  profit  by 
their  example.  If  this  be  treason,  make  the  most  of 
it."  Sustained  by  such  powers,  the  resolutions  were 
carried  by  a  majority  of  two,  and  Mr.  Henry  left  the 
assembly  with  the  reputation  of  a  statesman  added  to 
that  of  an  orator. 


PATRICK    HENRY.  99 

He  continued  to  be  an  active  member  of  the  house 
of  burgesses,  and  was  always  a  leader  in  measures 
calculated  to  arouse  the  country  against  the  march 
of  British  usurpation.  In  1774,  he  was  appointed  a 
delegate  to  the  new  congress  at  Philadelphia,  and 
took  his  seat  in  that  body  when  it  came  together  in 
the  following  September. 

The  most  eminent  men  of  the  various  colonies 
were  now  for  the  first  time  brought  together.  They 
were  known  to  each  other  by  fame ;  but  they  were 
personally  strangers.  The  meeting  was  solemn 
indeed.  The  object  which  liad  called  them  together 
was  of  incalculable  magnitude.  The  liberties  of  no 
loss  than  three  millions  of  people,  with  that  of  all 
their  posterity,  were  staked  on  the  wisdom  and  energy 
of  their  councils.  No  wonder  then  at  the  long  and 
deep  silence  which  is  said  to  have  followed  immedi- 
ately upon  their  organization ;  caused  by  the  anxiety 
with  v'hich  the  members  looked  round  upon  each 
other,  and  the  reluctance  which  every  individual  felt 
to  enter  upon  a  business  so  momentous. 

In  the  midst  of  this  deep  and  death-like  silence, 
Patrick  Henry  arose.  As  if  oppressed  by  the  occasion, 
he  began  in  slow  and  faltering  tones  to  address  the 
assembly.  In  a  few  moments,  however,  his  manner 
changed.  He  proceeded  to  speak  of  the  wrongs  sus- 
tained by  the  colonies.  As  he  advanced,  his  counte- 
nance glowed,  his  form  dilated,  and  his  words  fell 
with  the  mingled  power  of  the  thunder  and  the  light- 
ning. Even  that  great  assembly  was  struck  with 
emotions  of  amazement  and  awe.  When  he  sat 
down,  there  was  a  murmur  of  applause,  and  the  great 


100  PATRICK   HENRY. 

orator  of  Virginia  was  now  fell  to  be  the  orator  of  a 
nation. 

But  here  the  triumph  of  Patrick  Henry  ceased.  In 
the  discussion  of  general  grievances,  he  took  the  lead, 
but  when  called  down  from  the  heights  of  declama- 
tion to  the  sober  test  of  practical  business,  he  Avas 
entirely  at  fault.  He  was  now  made  to  feel  the  fatal 
neglect  of  early  study,  and  the  waste  of  opportuni- 
ties which  could  never  return.  Several  addresses 
were  proposed  by  congress — and  that  to  the  king  was 
assigned  to  him.  When  reported,  every  countenance 
betrayed  disappointment.  It  was  indeed  so  ill-suited 
to  the  occasion,  that  it  was  set  aside,  and  a  new 
draught,  prepared  by  Mr.  Dickinson,  was  adopted. 
Such  was  the  severe  penalty  paid  for  youthful  follies. 
After  all,  this  great  orator  had  but  a  single  gift,  and 
though  one  of  the  most  wonderful,  he  was  doubtless 
among  the  least  useful  members  of  that  great  assem- 
bly, which  he  had  electrified  by  his  magi<;  skill  in 
touching  the  sources  of  human  emotion. 

Congress  rose  in  October,  and  Mr.  Henry  returned 
to  his  native  county.  In  March  following,  another 
convention  of  delegates  from  Virginia  met  at  Rich- 
mond ;  of  this,  he  was  also  a  member.  The  peti- 
tion of  congress  to  the  king  had  been  received,  and 
the  reply  was  smooth  and  gracious  in  its  terms.  The 
loyalty  of  the  country,  though  shaken,  was  still  strong, 
and  the  desire  to  heal  the  breach  Avhich  had  been 
threatened,  was  common.  Such  feelings  prevailed 
among  the  leaders  of  the  Virginia  convention.  Henry 
had  entirely  opposite  views.  He  believed  a  crisis 
had  come  which  it  was  vain  to  attempt  to  avert,  and 


PATRICK    HENRY.  101 

for  which  immediate  preparation  should  Lc  made. 
He  therefore  introduced  a  series  of  resolutions  to  that 
effect. 

These  produced  a  sudden  and  painful  shock.  They 
were  resisted,  as  fraught  with  danger — as  rash,  im- 
politic and  unjust.  Seldom  has  any  proposition  been 
assailed  with  such  a  weight  of  argument,  eloquence, 
and  authority,  as  were  directed  against  these  resolves. 
But  the  mover  was  unabashed.  He  rose  and  replied 
with  a  power  that  was  irresistible.  After  proceeding 
for  some  time  in  a  strain  of  lofty  eloquence,  he  closed 
in  these  stirring  words  : 

"  They  tell  us,  sir,  that  we  are  weak — unable  to 
cope  with  so  formidable  an  adversary.  But  when 
shall  we  be  stronger  ?  Will  it  be  the  next  week,  or 
the  next  year  ?  Will  it  be  when  we  are  totall}'  dis- 
armed, and  when  a  British  guard  shall  be  stationed  in 
every  house  ?  Shall  we  gather  strength  by  irresolution 
and  inaction  ?  Shall  we  acquire  the  means  of  effectual 
resistance  by  lying  supinely  on  our  backs,  and  indulg- 
ing the  delusive  phantom  of  hope,  until  our  enemies 
shall  have  bound  us  hand  and  foot  ?  Sir,  we  are  not 
weak,  if  we  make  a  proper  use  of  those  means  which 
the  God  of  nature  hath  placed  in  our  power.  Three 
millions  of  people,  armed  in  the  holy  cause  of  liberty, 
and  in  such  a  country  as  that  which  we  possess,  are 
invincible  by  any  force  Avhich  our  enemy  can  send 
against  us.  Besides,  sir,  we  shall  not  fight  our  bat- 
tles alone.  There  is  a  just  God,  who  presides  over 
the  destinies  of  nations,  and  who  will  raise  up  friends 
to  fight  our  battles  for  us.  The  battle,  sir,  is  not  to 
the  strong  alone ;  it  is  to  the  vigilant,  the  active,  the 
9* 


102  PATRICK    HENRY. 

brave.  Besides,  sir,  we  have  no  election.  If  we 
were  base  enough  to  desire  It,  it  is  now  too  late  to 
retire  from  the  contest.  There  is  no  retreat  but  in 
submission  and  slavery !  Our  chains  are  forged. 
Their  clanking  may  be  heard  on  the  plains  of  Bos- 
ton !  The  war  is  inevitable,  and  let  it  come ! !  I 
repeat  it,  sir  ;  let  it  come  ! ! ! 

"  It  is  in  vain,  sir,  to  extenuate  the  matter.  Gen- 
tlemen may  cry  peace,  peace,  but  there  is  no  peace. 
The  war  is  actually  begun!  The  next  gale  that 
sweeps  from  the  north  will  bring  to  our  ears  the  clash 
of  resounding  arms !  Our  brethren  are  already  in 
the  field!  Why  stand  we  here  idle?  What  is  it 
that  gentlemen  wish  ?  What  would  they  have  ?  Is 
life  so  dear,  or  peace  so  sweet,  as  to  be  purchased  at 
the  price  of  chains  and  slavery  ?  Forbid  it,  Almighty 
God  !  I  know  not  what  course  others  may  take ;  but 
as  for  me," — cried  he,  with  both  his  arms  extended 
aloft,  his  brows  knit,  and  every  feature  marked  with 
the  resolute  purpose  of  his  soul,  and  his  voice  swelled 
to  its  boldest  note  of  exclamation, — "  give  me  liberty, 
or  give  me  death ! "  The  effect  of  these  burning  sen- 
tences was  overwhelming;  the  opposition  was  re- 
buked, and  the  resolutions  were  adopted. 

In  the  spring  of  1775,  Henry  took  his  seat  in  the 
second  congress,  but  no  opportunity  offered  for  the 
display  of  his  peculiar  talent.  He  was  deficient  as  a 
writer,  and  was  disgusted  with  the  dry  details  of  bus 
iness.  His  rambling  and  desultory  habits  unfitted 
him  for  that  close  attention,  careful  deliberation,  and 
patient  investigation,  which  were  the  qualifications 
then  chiefly  demanded  of  the  members  of  congress. 


PATRICK    HENRY.  103 

Doubtless,  feeling  this,  he  accepted  an  appointment, 
tendered  by  the  Virginia  convention,  as  commander 
of  the  forces  raised  for  the  defence  of  the  colony.  He 
was  at  his  post  in  September.  As  he  had  been  pre- 
viously engaged  in  a  military  enterprise  against  Lord 
Dunmorc,  considerable  expectations  were  entertained 
from  him  in  his  new  station.  He  did  nothing,  how- 
ever, to  fulfil  their  hopes,  and  it  was  said  of  him,  as 
John  Wilkes  said  of  Lord  Chatham,  "  all  his  power 
and  efficacy  is  seated  in  his  tongue."  He  resigned 
his  office  in  March,  1777 — a  circumstance  greatly 
regretted  by  the  troops,  with  whom  he  was  a  favorite. 
It  is  evident  that  Henry  was  deficient  in  military  tal- 
ents, yet  it  is  probable  that  the  entire  barrenness  of 
his  career  as  a  soldier,  is  to  be  attributed  to  adverse 
circumstances,  which  he  had  not  the  tact  to  over- 
come. 

Immediately  after  his  resignation,  he  was  chosen  a 
delegate  from  Hanover  to  the  convention  about  to 
assemble  for  the  purpose  of  forming  a  state  govern- 
ment. In  June,  a  constitution  was  adopted^  and 
Henry  was  immediately  chosen  governor  of  the  com- 
monwealth, by  the  convention. 

The  fall  of  the  year  1776  was  one  of  the  darkest 
and  most  dispiriting  periods  of  the  revolution.  The 
disaster  at  Long  Island  had  occurred,  by  which  a  con- 
siderable portion  of  the  American  army  had  been  cut 
off;  a  garrison  of  between  three  and  four  thousand 
men  had  been  taken  at  Fort  Washington,  and  the 
American  general,  with  the  small  remainder,  dis- 
heartened and  in  want  of  every  kind  of  comfort,  was 
retreating  through  the  Jerseys  before  an  overwhelm- 


104  PATRICK    HENRY. 

mg  power,  wliicli  spread  terror,  desolation,  and  death 
on  every  hand.  This  was  llie  period  of  which  Tom 
Paine,  in  his  Crisis,  used  that  memorahle  expression, 
• — "  These  are  the  times  which  try  the  souls  of  men ! " 
For  a  short  time,  the  courage  of  the  country  quailed. 
Washington  alone  remained  erect,  and  surveyed,  with 
sublime  composure,  the  storm  that  raged  around  him. 
Even  the  heroism  of  the  Virginia  legislature  gave 
way,  and,  .in  a  season  of  despair,  the  mad  project  of  a 
dictator  was  seriously  meditated.  That  Mr.  Henry 
was  thought  of  for  this  station,  as  has  been  alleged,  is 
highly  probable ;  but  that  the  project  was  suggested 
by  him,  or  even  received  his  countenance,  is  without 
evidence  or  probability. 

Mr.  Henry  was  twice  elected  by  the  people  to  the 
office  of  governor.  His  administration  was  marked 
with  no  very  signal  act,  yet  he  retired  from  the 
administration  with  a  confirmed  and  increased  popu- 
larity. He  continued  to  represent  the  county  of  Han- 
over in  the  legislature  of  the  state,  and  took  an  active 
part  in  sustaining  the  measures  connected  with  the 
great  contest  for  independence. 

After  the  close  of  the  war,  a  question  arose  whether 
the  tories  who  had  fled  from  the  country  and  given 
their  aid  to  Britain,  should  be  allowed  to  return. 
The  feeling  against  them  was  deep  and  bitter,  and 
the  popular  current  was  strong  in  opposition  to  their 
being  tolerated  in  the  country.  The  subject  was 
waimly  discussed  in  the  assembly,  and  but  for  the 
eloquence  of  Henry  in  their  behalf,  it  had  been  de- 
cided against  them.  He  took  abroad  and  liberal  view 
of  the  subject;  he  described  the  ample  resources  of 


PATFtlCK    IIENRV.  105 

the  country,  and  urged  the  obvious  policy  of  encour- 
aging the  increase  of  the  population  by  every  proper 
means.     He  closed  his  speech  in  these  words : 

"  Sir,  I  feel  no  objection  to  the  return  of  these 
deluded  people — they,  to  be  sure,  have  mistaken  their 
own  interests  most  wofully,  and  most  wofully  have 
they  suffered  the  punishment  due  to  their  offences. 
But  the  relations  which  we  bear  to  them  and  to  their 
native  country  are  now  changed — their  king  hath 
acknowledged  our  independence — the  quarrel  is  over 
— peace  hath  returned  and  found  us  a  free  people. 
Let  us  have  the  magnanimity,  sir,  to  lay  aside  our 
antipathies  and  prejudices,  and  consider  the  subject  in 
a  political  light.  These  are  an  enterprising,  moneyed 
people ;  they  will  be  serviceable  in  taking  off  the  sur- 
plus produce  of  our  lands,  and  supplying  us  with 
necessaries  during  the  infant  state  of  our  manufac- 
tures. Even  if  they  be  inimical  to  us  in  point  of 
feeling  and  principle,  I  can  see  no  objection,  in  a 
political  view,  to  making  them  tributary  to  our  advan- 
tage— and,  as  I  have  no  prejudices  to  prevent  my 
making  this  use  of  them,  so,  sir,  I  have  no  fear  of  any 
mischief  they  can  do  us.  Afraid  of  them  !  what,  sir," 
said  he,  rising  to  one  of  his  loftiest  attitudes,  and 
assuming  a  look  of  the  most  indignant  and  sovereign 
contempt,  "  shall  we,  who  have  laid  the  proud  British 
lion  at  our  feet,  now  be  afraid  of  his  whelps  ? " 

In  17S4,  Mr.  Henry  was  again  chosen  governor  of 
Virginia,  but  he  resigned  his  seat,  in  consequence  of 
his  inability  to  sustain  the  expense  in  which  it  in- 
volved him.  He  was  now  encumbered  with  debt, 
and  such  was  his  situation,  that,  although  appointed  a 


106  TATRICK    IIENKY. 

delegate  to  proceed  to  Philadelphia,  and  assist  in 
forming  a  national  constitution,  he  was  forced  to 
decline  the  station.  He  saw,  indeed,  no  escape  from 
continued  embarrassment  and  poverty,  but  a  return 
to  the  bar,  and  this  course  he  adopted,  in  17SS.  He, 
however,  refused  the  details  of  the  profession,  and  was 
only  engaged  in  arguing  important  causes. 

In  June,  of  this  year,  the  convention,  assembled 
to  consider  the  proposed  constitution  of  the  United 
States,  met  at  Richmond.  Henry  was  a  member, 
and  here,  among  a  host  of  stars,  he  met  Madison,  and 
Marshall,  and  Monroe.  It  might  have  been  expected, 
from  the  structure  of  his  mind,  and  his  habits  of 
thought,  that  he  would  oppose  the  constitution, — and 
this  course  he  adopted.  Bred  up  in  irregular  habits, 
of  a  vagrant  and  excursive  fancy — he  naturally 
thought  more  of  liberty  than  tranquillity,  and  was 
more  solicitous  to  ensure  freedom  than  security.  He 
seemed,  indeed,  to  think  that  liberty  involved  every 
earthly  blessing.  "  Give  us  that  precious  jewel,"  said 
he,  "  and  you  may  take  everything  else."  It  was  this 
constant  desire  to  breathe  a  free  atmosphere  which 
had  given  him  such  power  when  the  purpose  was 
to  obtain  deliverance  from  British  bondage  ;  but  now 
that  this  was  obtained,  and  the  question  came  how 
we  might  secure  and  perpetuate  the  privileges  we 
had  won,  he  became  jealous  even  of  a  government  of 
our  own  formation. 

He  therefore  opposed  the  constitution,  denouncing 
it  as  a  consolidated,  not  a  federal  government.  He 
especially  objected  to  the  terms  in  which  it  begins — 
we  the  people.     This  he  said  implied  a  compact  of  the 


PATRICK    HENRY.  107 

whole  people,  and  not  a  compact  of  states,  which  he 
contended  it  should  be.  He  proceeded  to  express 
the  utmost  apprehensions  of  the  result,  if  it  were 
adopted.  For  twenty  days  he  continued  to  hurl 
against  it  and  its  supporters,  not  argument  only,  but 
wit  and  ridicule,  often  attempting  to  shake  the  nerves 
of  his  antagonists  by  his  unrivalled  powers  of  fancy. 
But  his  efforts  were  vain.  There  were  minds  in  that 
convention  above  his  own,  whom  mere  eloquence 
could  not  move  from  the  fixed  foundations  of  a  calm 
and  deliberate  judgment.  The  constitution  was  finally 
approved  by  a  majority  of  two — and  its  happy  results 
have  served  to  lessen  our  respect  for  the  sagacity  of 
its  opposdrs,  and  to  increase  our  admiration  of  its 
founders. 

Mr.  Henry  continued  at  the  bar,  and,  in  1791,  made 
a  celebrated  plea  before  the  United  States  Court, 
against  the  power  of  a  British  creditor  before  the 
war,  to  enforce  his  claim  upon  an  American  debtor, 
in  an  American  court,  after  the  war.  In  1794,  how- 
ever, he  retired  from  business,  and  thenceforward  was 
devoted  to  retirement.  He  had  now  become  affluent, 
and,  in  the  tranquil  enjoyment  of  home,  he  spent  the 
remainder  of  his  days.  In  1799,  he  was  elected  a 
member  of  the  assembly  of  Virginia,  but  his  health 
had  been  long  declining,  and  on  the  6th  of  June,  of 
that  year,  he  died. 

Patrick  Henry  was  twice  married,  and  had  fifteen 
children,  eleven  of  whom  were  living  at  his  death. 
In  person,  he  was  nearly  six  feet  high,  spare,  and 
stooping.  His  complexion  was  dark,  his  skin  sallow, 
his  countenance  grave  and  thoughtful.     His  eye  was 


108  PATRICK    HENRY. 

bluish  gray,  and  being  deep-set  and  overhung  with 
dark  and  full  eyebrows,  had  a  remarkable  look  of 
penetration. 

In  his  disposition,  he  was  social  and  kind-hearted. 
His  conversation  was  peculiarly  attractive,  and  his 
demeanor  such  as  to  win  the  hearts  of  those  around 
him.  Of  his  wonderful  eloquence,  we  have  given 
several  specimens.  His  humor  was  as  remarkable  as 
those  loftier  powers  of  rhetoric  by  which  he  sometimes 
electrified  his  hearers.  The  following  instance  illus- 
trates his  talent  for  ridicule. 

During  the  distresses  of  the  American  army,  con- 
sequent on  the  joint  invasion  of  Cornwallis  and  Phil- 
lips, in  17S1,  a  Mr.  Venable,  an  army  commissary, 
had  taken  two  steers,  belonging  to  one  Hook,  for  the 
troops.  The  act  had  not  been  strictly  legal;  and,  on 
the  establishment  of  peace.  Hook,  under  the  advice  of 
Mr.  Cowan,  a  gentleman  of  some  distinction  in  the 
law,  thought  proper  to  bring  an  action  of  trespass 
against  Mr.  Venable,  in  the  District  Court  of  New 
London.  Mr.  Henry  appeared  for  the  defendant,  and 
is  said  to  have  disported  himself  in  this  cause  to  the 
infinite  enjoyment  of  his  hearers,  the  unfortunate 
Hook  always  excepted.  After  jNIr.  Henry  became 
animated  in  the  cause,  he  appeared  to  have  complete 
control  over  the  passions  of  his  audience  ;  at  one  time, 
he  excited  their  indignation  against  Hook  ;  vengeance 
was  visible  in  every  countenance ;  again,  when  he 
chose  to  relax  and  ridicule  him,  the  whole  audience 
was  in  a  roar  of  laughter.  He  painted  the  distresses 
of  the  American  army,  exposed,  almost  naked,  to  the 
rigor  of  a  winter's  sky,  and  marking  the  frozen  groun: 


PATRICK    IIEIVRY.  109 

over  which  they  marched  with  the  Wood  of  their  unshod 
feet.  "Where  was  the  man,"  he  said,  "who  had  an 
American  heart  in  his  bosom,  Avho  would  not  throw 
open  his  fields,  his  barns,  his  cellars,  the  door  of  his 
house,  the  portals  of  his  breast,  to  have  received  with 
open  arms  the  meanest  soldier  in  that  little  band  of 
famished  patriots  ?  Where  is  the  man  ?  There  he 
stands— but  whether  the  heart  of  au  American  beats 
in  his  bosom,  you,  gentlemen,  are  to  judge." 

He  then  carried  the  jury,  by  the  powers  of  his 
imagination,  to  the  plains  of  Yorktown,  the  surrender 
of  which  had  followed  shortly  after  the  act  complained 
of;  he  depicted  the  surrender  in  the  most  glowing 
and  noble  colors  of  his  eloquence ;  the  audience  saw 
before  their  eyes  the  humiliation  ajid  dejection  of  the 
British  as  they  marched  out  of  their  trenches ;  they 
saw  the  triumph  which  lighted  up  every  patriot  face, 
and  heard  the  shouts  of  victory,  and  the  cry  of  Wash- 
ington and  liberty,  as  it  rung  and  echoed  through  the 
American  ranks,  and  was  reverberated  from  the  hills 
and  shores  of  the  neighboring  river ;  but,  "  hark  ! " — 
said  he — "  what  tones  of  discord  are  these  which  dis- 
turb the  general  joy,  and  silence  the  acclamations  of 
victory? — they  are  the  notes  oiJohn  Hook,  hoarsely 
bawling  through  the  American  camp,  'beef!  beef! 
beef!'"  The  effect  was  electrical.  The  court  was 
thrown  into  a  paroxysm  of  laughter,  and  the  poor 
plaintiff  not  only  lost  his  case,  but  he  became  a  general 
object  of  ridicule  and  contempt. 

The  character  of  Patrick  Henry  is  by  no  means  to 
be  presented  as  a  model.  That  he  was  an  orator  of 
wonderful  powers,  we  cannot  deny ;  that  he  benefit- 
VI.— 10 


110  PATRICK    HENRY. 

ed  the  cause  of  the  revolution,  we  may  also  gratefully 
acknowledge.  It  is  due  to  truth  to  say,  also,  that  his 
external  morals  were  strict,  and,  as  a  husband  and 
father,  he  was  exemplary.  He  was,  however,  miserly 
in  respect  to  money,  sometimes  charged  excessive 
fees  in  his  practice,  and  was  engaged  in  speculations 
which  subjected  him  to  merited  censure.  He  was 
greedy  of  fame,  and  jealous  of  the  reputation  of  his 
rivals. 

In  early  life,  as  we  have  already  stated,  he  affected 
the  dress  and  manners  of  the  common  people,  and 
sought  to  win  their  favor  by  adopting  their  tastes  and 
habits.  We  have  shown  that  he  even  condescended 
to  copy  their  corrupt  speech.  The  want  of  dignity, 
as  well  as  honesty,  in  this,  merits  reproach.  A  man 
of  talent  should  be  the  instructor  of  the  people ;  he 
should  seek  to  elevate  them  by  high  example,  not  to 
confirm  them  in  error  or  vice  by  imitation.  The 
people  have  always  reason  to  distrust  the  sincerity  of 
the  flatterer — and  it  appears  in  the  case  of  Henry,  as 
it  has  often  appeared  before,  that  beneath  a  seeming 
love  of  the  people,  there  was  a  lurking  desire  to  rule 
them.  That  his  early  rusticity  Avas  but  a  cover  to 
ulterior  views,  is  sufficiently  evinced  by  the  fact,  that 
when  he  had  acquired  honors,  station,  and  fortune,  he 
became  ostentatious  of  his  Avealth. 

There  was,  therefore,  in  the  midst  of  his  intellectual 
greatness,  a  humiliating  littleness  of  soul.  As  his 
conduct  was  never  subjected  to  the  discipline  of  fixed 
habits,  so  his  heart  seems  not  to  have  been  regulated 
by  an  ever-present  sense  of  justice.     In  the  exercise 


PATRICK    HENRY.  Ill 

of  his  talents,  he  seems  to  have  had  but  a  single 
object  in  view — success.  His  biographer,  Mr.  Wirt, 
tells  us,  that  even  in  the  legislative  halls  he  always 
spoke  for  victory.  He  knew  all  the  local  iriterests 
and  prejudices  of  the  members,  and  upon  these  he 
played  with  the  utmost  skill  and  effect.  This  was 
performed  with  so  much  delicacy  and  adroitness,  and 
concealed  under  a  countenance  of  such  apostolic 
solemnity,  that  the  persons  on  whom  he  was  oper- 
ating, were  unconscious  of  his  design.  Such  is  tJie 
language  of  his  eulogistic  biographer.  Yet  the  tri- 
umphs thus  obtained,  were  rather  a  disgrace  than  an 
honor  to  the  winner ;  they  displayed  a  radical  defect 
in  morals,  and  an  insensibility  to  the  claims  of  holy 
truth  and  manly  honor.  The  only  excuse  that  can  be 
offered,  lies  in  the  fact,  that  in  debate,  as  well  as  in 
war,  all  the  artifices  which  the  combatants  can  bring 
to  their  aid,  are  deemed  admissible.  This,  however, 
is  but  to  offer  a  poor  apology  for  a  vile  practice ;  it  is 
but  to  admit  that  the  master  spirits  of  mankind — in  the 
exercise  of  the  great  gift  of  oratory,  whose  guide  and 
goal  should  be  truth  alone — are  allowed  to  adopt  a  code 
of  morals  which  would  be  disgraceful  at  the  gambling 
table.  It  is  probable  that  the  loose  practice  of  the 
bar,  which  has  done  so  much  to  debauch  public 
morals,  carried  by  the  great  orator  of  Virginia  to  the 
legislative  halls,  was,  in  part,  the  source  of  the  error 
to  which  we  allude. 

Let  us  not  be  thought  to  speak  rashly  of  the  mighty 
dead!  Patrick  Henry  was  one  of  the  master  spirits 
of  the  revolution — a  patriot  and  a  benefactor.     But 


112 


PATRICK    HENRY. 


lie  had  great  faults  ;  and  while  we  admit  his  splendid 
gifts,  we  are  bound  to  point  out  the  defects  of  his 
character,  lest  even  his  vices  and  his  foibles  become 
respectable  in  our  eyes,  through  their  alliance  with 
genius  and  renown. 


tfid  60  00  0  0  a  0  oo's  6  a'i^ 


BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN 

Was  born  at  Boston,  on  the  17th  January,  1706,  and 
was  the  youngest  but  two  of  a  family  of  seventeen  chil- 
dren, two  daughters  being  born  after  him.  His  ances- 
tors lived  in  Northamptonshire,  England,  and  we  may 
conclude  they  had  originally  been  of  some  consequence. 
After  the  Reformation,  the  immediate  progenitors  of 
Benjamin,  continued  zealously  attached  to  the  church 
of  England,  till  towards  the  close  of  the  reign  of 
Charles  II.,  when  his  father,  Josias,  along  with  his 
uncle   Benjamin,  became    dissenters.      These   men 

H  10* 


114  BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN. 

were  both  bred  to  the  trade  of  silk-dyeing.  Josias 
married  early  in  life ;  and,  about  the  year  16S2,  he  emi- 
grated, with  his  wife  and  three  children,  to  America, 
on  account  of  the  persecutions  to  which  he  was 
exposed  for  his  dissenting  principles.  On  arriving  at 
Boston,  he  embraced  the  occupation  of  soap-boiler  and 
tallow-chandler,  of  which  businesses  he  previously 
knew  nothing,  and  only  from  this  being  at  the  time 
the  likeliest  to  provide  maintenance  for  his  increasing 
family.  He  appears  to  have  been  a  man  of  great 
penetration  and  solid  judgment ;  prudent,  active,  and 
frugal ;  and,  although  kept  in  comparative  poverty  by 
the  expenses  of  his  numerous  family,  was  held  in 
great  esteem  by  his  townsmen. 

Benjamin  was  at  first  designed  to  be  a  clergjTnan, 
and  at  eight  years  of  age  was  put  to  the  grammar 
school  with  that  view,  having  previously  been  taught 
to  read.  His  uncle  Benjamin,  who  had  likewise  emi- 
grated, encouraged  this  project.  But  young  Franklin 
had  not  been  a  year  at  school  when  his  father  per- 
ceived that  his  circumstances  were  quite  inadequate 
to  the  expenses  necessary  to  complete  his  son's  edu- 
cation for  the  clerical  profession.  He  accordingly 
removed  him  from  the  more  learned  seminary,  and 
placed  him  under  a  humble  teacher  of  reading  and 
writing  for  another  twelvemonth,  preparatory  to  bind- 
ing  him  to  some  trade. 

AVhen  his  term  at  school  had  expired,  being  then 
ten  years  of  age,'  he  was  taken  home  to  assist  his 
father  in  his  business ;  but  he  soon  testified  such  repug- 
nance to  the  cutting  of  wicks  for  candles,  running 
errands,  waiting  in  the  shop,  with  other  drudgery  of 


BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN.  115 

the  same  nature,  that,  after  a  tedious  and  ill-borne 
trial  of  two  years,  his  father  became  afraid  of  his  run- 
ning ofT  to  sea,  as  an  elder  brother  had  done,  and 
resolved  to  put  him  to  some  other  occupation.  After 
much  deliberation,  therefore,  he  was  sent  on  trial  for 
a  few  days  to  his  cousin,  a  son  of  Benjamin,  who 
Avas  a  cutler ;  but  that  relative  being  desirous  of  a 
larger  apprentice  fee  than  his  uncle  could  spare,  he 
was  recalled.  His  brother  James,  a  short  time  previ- 
ous to  this  period,  had  returned  from  England,  whither 
he  had  been  sent  to  learn  the  printing  business,  and 
set  up  a  press  and  types  on  his  own  account  at  Boston. 
To  him,  therefore,  after  no  little  persuasion,  Benjamin 
at  last  agreed  to  become  apprentice,  and  he  was 
indentured  accordingly  for  the  term  of  nine  years ; 
that  is,  until  he  should  reach  the  age  of  twenty-one. 

The  choice  of  this  profession,  as  it  turned  out,  Avas 
a  lucky  one,  and  it  was  made  after  much  careful  and 
correct  observation  on  the  part  of  the  parent.  He  had 
watched  his  son's  increasing  fondness  for  books  and 
tliirst  for  information,  and  that,  too,  of  a  solid  and 
instructive  sort ;  and  he  therefore  judiciously  resolved 
to  place  him  in  a  favorable  situation  for  gratifying  this 
propensity  in  his  youthful  mind;  while  he  would  at 
the  same  time  be  instructed  in  a  profession  by  which 
he  could  always  independently  maintain  himself, 
wherever  fortune  might  lead  him,  within  the  bounds 
of  the  civilized  world.  Franklin,  in  his  own  Life, 
thus  speaks  of  his  early  and  insatiable  craving  after 
knowledge : 

"  From  my  earliest  years  I  had  been  passionately 
fond  of  reading,  and  I  laid  out  in  books  all  the  money 


IIG  BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN. 

I  could  procure.  I  was  particularly  pleased  with 
accounts  of  voyages.  My  first  acquisition  was  Bun- 
yan's  collection,  in  small  separate  volumes.  These  I 
afterwards  sold,  in  order  to  buy  an  historical  collection 
by  R.  Burton,  which  consisted  of  small  cheap  volumes, 
amounting  in  all  to  about  forty  or  fifty.  My  father  s 
little  library  was  principally  made  up  of  books  of  prac- 
tical and  polemical  theology.  I  read  the  greatest  part 
of  them.  There  Avas  also  among  my  father's  books, 
Plutarch's  Lives,  in  which  I  read  continually,  and  I 
still  regard  as  advantageously  employed  the  time 
devoted  to  them.  I  found,  besides,  a  work  of  De  Foe's, 
entitled  An  Essay  on  Projects,  from  which,  perhaps,  I 
derived  impressions  that  have  since  influenced  some 
of  the  principal  events  of  my  life."  It  seems  to  have 
been  lucky  for  himself  and  mankind  that  the  last- 
named  author's  most  celebrated  work,  Robinson  Cru- 
soe, did  not  fall  into  his  hands  at  this  period. 

By  his  assiduity  Franklin  soon  attained  great  pro- 
ficiency in  his  business,  and  became  very  serviceable 
to  his  brother.  At  the  same  time,  he  formed  acquainr 
tance  with  various  booksellers'  apprentices,  by  whose 
furtive  assistance  he  was  enabled  to  extend  the  sphere 
of  his  reading.  This  gratification,  however,  was  for 
the  most  part  enjoyed  at  the  expense  of  his  natural 
rest.  "How  often,"  says  he,  "has  it  happened  to  me 
to  pass  the  greater  part  of  the  night  in  reading  by 
my  bedside,  when  the  book  had  been  lent  me  in  the 
evenmg,  and  was  to  be  returned  the  next  morning, 
lest  it  might  be  missed  or  wanted ! "  His  studious 
habits  and  intelligent  conversation  also  attracted  the 
notice  of  a  wealthy  merchant,  who  was  in  the  habit  of 


BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN.  117 

coming  about  the  office,  and  who  invited  him  to  his 
liouse,  and  gave  him  the  use  of  an  excellent  library. 

It  is  a  singular  peculiarity  of  all  minds  of  an  active 
and  aspiring  character,  that  they  uniformly  endeavor 
to  do  vv^hatever  others  have  done,  and  from  which 
they  themselves  have  derived  enjoyment  or  benefit. 
Franklin,  from  the  delight  he  took  in  the  perusal  of 
books,  at  last  bethought  himself  of  trying  his  own  hand 
at  composition ;  and,  as  has  happened,  we  believe,  with 
a  great  proportion  of  literary  men  of  all  ages,  his  first 
efforts  were  of  a  poetical  nature.  His  brother,  having 
come  to  the  knowledge  of  his  attempts,  encouraged 
him  to  proceed,  thinking  such  a  talent  might  prove 
useful  in  the  establishment.  At  the  suggestion  of  the 
latter,  therefore,  he  finished  two  ballads,  which,  after 
being  printed,  he  was  sent  round  the  town  to  sell ; 
and  one  of  them,  the  subject  of  which  was  a  recent 
affecting  shipwreck,  had,  he  says,  a  prodigious  run. 
But  his  father,  having  heard  of  the  circumstance,  soon 
let  down  the  pegs  of  the  young  poet's  vanity,  by 
analyzing  his  verses  before  him  in  a  most  unmerciful 
style,  and  demonstrating,  as  Franklin  says,  what 
"  wretched  stuff"  they  really  were."  This  sharp  les- 
son, which  concluded  with  a  warning  that  versifiers 
were  almost  uniformly  beggars,  effectually  weaned 
him  from  his  rhyming  propensities. 

Franklin  immediately  afterwards  betook  himself  to 
the  composition  of  prose,  and  the  first  opportunity  of 
exercising  his  pen  and  his  faculties  in  this  way  occur- 
red in  the  following  manner : — He  had  a  young 
acquaintance  of  the  name  of  Collins,  who  was,  like 
himself,  passionately  fond  of  books,  and  with  whom 


lis  BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN. 

he  had  frequent  and  long  arguments  on  various  sub- 
jects. In  narrating  this  circumstance,  he  comments, 
in  passing,  on  the  dangerous  consequences  of  acquir- 
ing a  disputatious  habit,  as  tending  to  generate  acri- 
mony and  discord  in  society,  and  often  hatred  betwixt 
the  best  of  friends.  Franklin  and  his  companion 
having,  as  usual,  got  into  an  argument  one  day, 
which  was  maintained  on  both  sides  with  equal  per- 
tinacity, they  parted  without  bringing  it  to  a  termina- 
tion ;  and  as  they  were  to  be  separated  for  some  time, 
an  agreement  was  made  that  they  should  carry  on 
tlieir  dispute  by  letter.  This  was  accordingly  done ; 
when,  after  the  interchange  of  several  epistles,  the 
whole  correspondence  happened  to  fall  into  the  hands 
of  Franklin's  father.  After  perusing  it  with  much 
interest,  his  natural  acuteness  and  good  sense  enabled 
him  to  point  out  to  his  son  how  far  inferior  he  was  to 
his  adversary  in  elegance  of  expression,  arrangement, 
and  perspicuity.  Feeling  the  justice  of  his  parent's 
remarks,  he  forthwith  studied  most  anxiously  to  im- 
prove his  style ;  and  the  plan  he  adopted  for  this  pur- 
pose is  equally  interesting  and  instructive. 

"  Amidst  these  resolves,"  he  says,  "  an  odd  volume 
of  the  Spectator  fell  into  my  hands.  This  was  a  pub- 
lication I  had  never  seen.  I  bought  the  volume,  and 
read  it  again  and  again.  I  was  enchanted  with  it, 
thought  the  style  excellent,  and  wished  it  Avere  in  my 
power  to  imitate  it.  With  this  view,  I  selected  some 
of  the  papers,  made  short  summaries  of  the  sense  of 
each  period,  and  put  them  for  a  few  days  aside.  I 
then,  without  looking  at  the  book,  endeavored  to 
restore  the  essays  to  their  due  form,  and  to  express 


BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN.  119 

each  thought  at  length,  as  it  was  in  the  original,  em- 
ploying the  most  appropriate  words  that  occurred  to 
my  mind.  I  afterwards  compared  mij  Spectator  with 
the  original.  I  perceived  some  faults,  which  I  cor- 
rected ;  but  I  found  that  I  chiefly  wanted  a  fund  of 
words,  if  I  may  so  express  myself,  and  a  facility  of 
recollecting  and  employing  them,  which  I  thought  I 
should  by  that  time  have  acquired,  had  I  continued  to 
make  verses.  The  continual  need  of  words  of  the 
same  meaning,  but  of  different  lengths  for  the  mea- 
sure, and  of  different  sounds  for  the  rhyme,  would 
have  placed  me  under  the  necessity  of  seeking  for  a 
variety  of  synonymes,  and  have  rendered  me  master 
of  them.  From  this  belief,  I  took  some  of  the  tales 
of  the  Spectator,  and  turned  them  into  verse ;  and 
after  a  time,  when  I  had  sufficiently  forgotten  them,  I 
again  converted  them  into  prose.  Sometimes,  also,  I 
mingled  my  summaries  together ;  and,  a  few  weeks 
afterwards,  endeavored  to  arrange  them  in  the  best 
order,  before  I  attempted  to  form  the  periods  and  com- 
plete the  essays.  This  I  did  w^th  a  view  of  acquir- 
ing me'thod  in  the  arrangement  of  my  thoughts.  On 
comparing  afterwards  my  performance  with  the  origi- 
nal, many  faults  were  apparent,  which  I  corrected ; 
but  I  had  sometimes  the  satisfaction  to  think,  that,  in 
certain  particulars  of  little  importance,  I  had  been  for- 
tunate enough  to  improve  the  order  of  the  thought  or 
style  ;  and  this  encouraged  me  to  hope  that  I  should 
succeed  in  time  in  Avriting  decently  in  the  English 
language,  which  was  one  of  the  greatest  objects  of 
my  ambition." 

But  it  Avas  not  by  such  rigorous  self-imposed  tasks 


120  BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN. 

alone,  that  this  extraordinary  man,  even  at  so  early  an 
age,  endeavored  to  chasten  his  mind,  and  make  every 
propensity  subservient  to  his  sense  of  duty.  He  also 
began  to  exercise  those  acts  of  personal  self-denial, 
which  the  heyday  of  youth,  the  season  for  animal 
enjoyment,  feels  as  the  most  intolerable  of  all  restric- 
tions. Having  met  with  a  work  recommending  a 
vegetable  diet,  he  determined  to  adopt  it.  Finding, 
after  some  days'  trial,  that  he  was  ridiculed  by  his  fel- 
low-boarders for  his  singularity,  he  proposed  to  his 
brother  to  take  the  half  of  what  was  now  paid  by  that 
relative  for  his  board,  and  therewith  to  maintain  him- 
self. No  objection  was  of  course  made  to  such  an 
arrangement,  and  he  soon  found  that  of  what  he 
received  he  was  able  to  save  one  half.  "  This,"  says 
he,  "  was  a  new  fund  for  the  purchase  of  books,  and 
other  advantages  resulted  to  me  from  the  plan. 
When  my  brother  and  his  workmen  left  the  printing- 
house  to  go  to  dinner,  I  remained  behind;  and  dis- 
patching my  frugal  meal,  which  frequently  consisted 
of  a  biscuit  only,  or  a  slice  of  bread  and  a  bunch  of 
raisins,  or  a  bun  from  the  pastry  cook's,  with  a  glass 
of  water,  I  had  the  rest  of  the  lime  till  their  return 
for  study ;  and  my  progress  therein  Avas  proportioned 
to  that  clearness  of  ideas  and  quickness  of  conception 
which  are  the  fruits  of  temperance  in  eating  and 
drinking." 

Another  remarkable  instance  of  the  resolute  way  in 
which  he  set  about  making  himself  master  of  what- 
ever acquirement  he  found  more  immediately  neces- 
sary to  him  at  the  moment,  is  the  following : — Having 
been  put  to  the  blush  one  day  for  his  ignorance  in  the 


BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN.  121 

art  of  calculation,  which  he  had  twice  failed  to  learn 
while  at  school,  he  procured  a  copy  of  Cocker's  Arith- 
metic, and  went  through  it  all,  making  himself  com- 
pletely master  of  it,  before  turning  his  mind  to  any- 
thing else !  He  soon  after,  also,  gained  some  little 
acquaintance  with  geometry,  by  perusing  a  work  on 
navigation.  He  mentions,  likewise,  his  reading, 
about  this  time,  Locke's  Essay  on  the  Understand- 
ing, and  the  Art^f  Thinking,  by  Messrs.  Du  Port 
Royal.  Having  found,  in  some  essay  on  rhetoric  and 
logic,  a  model  of  disputation  after  the  manner  of  So- 
crates, which  consists  in  drawing  on  your  opponent, 
by  insidious  questions,  into  making  admissions  which 
militate  against  himself,  he  became  excessively  fond 
of  it,  he  says,  and  practised  it  for  some  years  with 
great  success,  but  ultimately  abandoned  it,  perceiving 
that  it  could  be  made  as  available  to  the  cause  of 
wrong  as  that  of  right,  while  the  prime  end  of  all 
argument  was  to  convince  or  inform. 

About  three  years  after  Franklin  went  to  his  ap- 
prenticeship, that  is  to  say,  in  1721,  his  brother  began 
to  print  a  newspaper,  the  second  that  was  established 
in  America,  which  he  called  the  New  England  Cou- 
rant ;  the  one  previously  established  v/as  the  Boston 
News  Letter.  The  new  publication  brought  the  most 
of  the  literati  of  Boston  about  the  printing-office,  m.any 
of  whom  were  contributors  ;  and  Franklin  frequently 
overheard  them  conversing  about  the  various  articles 
that  appeared  in  its  columns,  and  the  approbation 
with  which  particular  ones  were  received.  He 
became  ambitious  to  participate  in  this  sort  of  fame ; 
and  having  written  out  a  paper,  in  a  disguised  hand, 

VI.— 11 


122  BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN. 

he  slipped  it  under  the  door  of  the  printing-o^ce, 
^vhere  it  was  found  next  morning,  and  submitted,  as 
usual,  to  the  critics,  when  they  assembled.  "They 
read  it,"  he  says ;  "  commented  on  it  in  my  hearing ; 
and  I  had  the  exquisite  pleasure  to  find  that  it  met 
with  their  approbation ;  and  that,  in  the  various  con- 
jectures they  made  respecting  the  author,  no  one  was 
mentioned  who  did  not  enjoy  a  high  reputation  in  the 
country  for  talent  and  genius.         ^ 

"  I  now  supposed  myself  fortunate  in  my  judges, 
and  began  to  suspect  that  they  were  not  such  excellent 
writers  as  I  had  hitherto  supposed  them.  Be  this  as 
it  may,  encouraged  by  this  little  adventure,  I  Avrote 
and  sent  to  press,  in  the  same  way,  many  other  pieces, 
which  were  equally  approved — keeping  the  secret  till 
my  slender  stock  of  information  and  knowledge  for 
such  performances  w'as  pretty  completely  exhausted." 
He  then  discovered  himself,  and  had  the  satisfaction 
of  finding  he  was  treated  with  much  more  respect  by 
his  brother  and  his  friends  than  heretofore. 

The  two  brothers,  however,  lived  together  on  very 
disagreeable  terrns,  in  consequence  of  the  hasty  and 
overbearing  temper  of  the  elder,  and  Benjamin  longed 
for  an  opportunity  of  separating  from  him.  This  at 
last  occurred.  His  brother  was  apprehended  and 
imprisoned  for  some  political  article  which  offended 
the  government,  and,  upon  his  liberation,  was  prohib- 
ited from  ever  printing  his  newspaper  again.  It  was 
therefore  determined  that  it  should  be  published  in 
Benjamin's  name,  who  had  managed  it  during  his 
brother's  confinement  with  great  spirit  and  ability. 
To  avoid  havinsr  it  said  that  the  elder  brother  was 


BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN,  123 

only  screening  himself  behind  one  of  his  apprentices, 
Benjamin's  indenture  was  delivered  up  to  him  4is- 
charged,  and  private  indentures  were  entered  into  for 
the  remainder  of  his  time.  This  underhand  arrange- 
ment was  proceeded  in  for  several  months,  the  paper 
continuing  to  be  printed  in  Benjamin's  name  ;  but  his 
brother  having  one  day  again  broke  out  into  one  of 
his  violent  fits  of  passion,  and  struck  him,  he  availed 
himself  of  his  discharged  indentures,  well  knov/ing 
that  the  others  would  never  be  produced  against  him, 
and  gave  up  his  employment.  Franklin  afterwards 
regretted  his  having  taken  so  unfair  an  advantage  of 
his  brother's  situation,  and  regarded  it  as  one  of  the 
serious  errors  of  his  life.  His  brother  felt  so  exas- 
perated on  the  occasion,  that  he  went  to  all  the  print- 
ing-houses, and  represented  Benjamin  in  suA.  a  light 
that  they  refused  his  services. 

Finding  that  he  could  get  no  employment  at  Bos- 
ton, and  that  he  was  regarded  with  dislike  by  the  gov- 
ernment, he  resolved  to  proceed  to  New  York,  the 
nearest  town  in  which  there  was  a  printing-office. 
To  raise  sufficient  funds  for  this  purpose,  he  sold  part 
of  his  library ;  and  having  eluded  the  vigilance  of  his 
parents,  who  were  opposed  to  his  intention,  he  secretly 
got  on  board  of  a  vessel,  and  landed  at  New  York  on 
the  third  day  after  sailing. 

Thus,  at  the  age  of  seventeen,  Franklin  found  him- 
self two  hundred  miles  from  his  native  place,  from 
which  he  was  in  some  sort  a  runaway,  without  a 
friend  or  recommendation  to  any  one,  and  with  very 
little  money  in  his  pocket.  To  complete  his  dilemma, 
he  found,  on  application,  that  the  only  printer  then  in 


124  BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN. 

town  could  give  him  no  employment.  That  person, 
however,  recommended  him  to  go  to  Philadelphia, 
wKere  he  had  a  son,  Avho,  he  thought,  would  give  him 
work;  and  accordingly  he  set  off  for  that  place.  His 
journey  was  a  most  disastrous  one  both  by  water  and 
land,  and  he  frequently  regretted  leaving  home  so 
rashly.  He  reached  his  destination  at  last,  however, 
and  in  a  plight  which  certainly  did  not  bode  very 
auspiciously  for  his  future  fortunes.  His  own  graphic 
description  of  his  condition  and  appearance,  on  his 
first  entrance  into  Philadelphia,  is  at  once  interesting 
and  amusing : — 

"  I  have  entered  into  the  particulars  of  my  voyage, 
and  shall  in  like  manner  describe  my  first  entrance 
into  this  place,  that  you  may  be  able  to  compare 
beginnin"-s  so  unlikely  with  the  figure  I  have  since 
made.  I  was  in  my  working  dress,  my  best  clothes 
being  to  come  by  sea.  I  was  covered  with  dirt ;  my 
pockets  were  filled  with  shirts  and  stockings ;  I  was 
unacquainted  with  a  single  soul  in  the  place,  and 
knew  not  where  to  seek  a  lodging.  Fatigued  with 
walking  and  rowing,  and  having  passed  the  night  with- 
out sleep,  I  was  extremely  hungry,  and  all  my  money 
consisted  of  a  Dutch  dollar,  and  about  a  shilling's 
worth  of  coppers,  which  I  gave  to  the  boatmen  for  my 
passage.  At  first  they  refused  it,  because  I  had 
rowed,  but  I  insisted  on  their  taking  it.  A  man  is 
sometimes  more  generous  when  he  has  little  than 
when  he  has  much  money,  probably  because  he  is,  in 
the  first  place,  desirous  of  concealing  his  poverty. 

"  I  walked  towards  the  top  of  the  street,  looking 
eagerly  on  both  sides,  till  I  came  to  Market  street, 


BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN.  125 

where  I  met  a  child  with  a  loaf  of  bread.  I  inquired 
where  he  had  bought  it,  and  went  straight  to  the 
baker's  shop  which  he  pointed  out  to  me.  I  asked 
for  some  biscuits,  expecting  to  find  such  as  we  had  at 
Boston  ;  but  they  made,  it  seems,  none  of  that  sort  at 
Philadelphia.  I  then  asked  for  a  threepenny  loaf; 
they  made  no  loaves  of  that  price.  I  then  desired 
him  to  let  me  have  threepence  worth  of  bread,  of  some 
kind  or  other.  He  gave  me  three  large  rolls.  I  was 
surprised  at  receiving  so  much.  I  took  them,  how- 
ever, and  having  no  room  in  my  pockets,  I  walked  on, 
with  a  roll  under  each  arm,  eating  the  third. 

"  In  this  manner  I  went  through  Market  street  to 
Fourth  street,  and  passed  the  house  of  Mr.  Read,  the 
father  of  my  future  wife.  She  was  standing  at  the 
door,  observed  me,  and  thought  with  reason  that  I 
made  a  very  singular  and  grotesque  appearance.  I 
then  turned  the  corner,  and  went  through  Chestnut 
street,  eating  my  roll  all  the  way ;  and,  having  made 
this  round,  I  found  myself  again  on  Market  street 
wharf,  near  the  boat  in  which  I  arrived.  I  stepped 
into  it  to  take  a  draught  of  the  river  water ;  and,  find- 
ing myself  satisfied  with  my  first  roll,  I  gave  the  other 
two  to  a  woman  and  her  child,  who  had  come  down 
the  river  with  us  in  the  boat,  and  was  waiting  to  con- 
tinue her  journey.  Thus  refreshed,  I  regained  the 
street,  which  was  now  full  of  well-dressed  people  all 
going  the  same  way.  I  joined  them,  and  was  thus 
led  to  a  Quakers'  meeting-house,  near  the  market 
place.  I  sat  down  with  the  rest,  and,  after  looking 
round  me  for  some  time,  hearing  nothing  said,  and 
being  drowsy  from  my  last  night's  labor  and  want  of 
11* 


126  BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN. 

rest,  I  fell  into  a  sound  sleep.  In  this  state  I  con- 
tinued till  the  assembly  dispersed,  when  one  of  the 
congregation  had  the  goodness  to  wake  me.  This 
was  consequently  the  first  house  I  entered,  or  ia 
which  I  slept,  in  Philadelphia." 

Having  with  some  difficulty  procured  a  lodging  for 
the  night,  he  next  morning  waited  on  Mr.  Bradford, 
the  printer  to  whom  he  had  been  directed.  That 
individual  said  he  had  no  Avork  for  him  at  present,  but 
directed  him  to  a  brother  in  trade,  of  the  name  of 
Keimer,  who,  upon  application,  made  him  the  same 
answer ;  but,  after  considering  a  little,  set  him  to  put 
an  old  press  to  rights,  being  the  only  one,  indeed,  he 
possessed,  and  in  a  few  days  gave  him  regular  work. 
Upon  this,  Franklin  took  a  lodging  in  the  house  of 
Mr.  Read,  his  future  father-in-law. 

Franklin  had  been  some  months  at  Philadelphia, 
without  either  writing  to  or  hearing  from  home,  and, 
as  he  says,  trying  to  forget  Boston  as  much  as  possi- 
ble, when  a  brother-in-law  of  his,  a  master  of  a  vessel, 
having  accidentally  heard  where  he  was,  wrote  to 
him,  pressing  his  return  home  in  the  most  urgent 
terms.  Franklin's  reply,  declining  compliance  Avith 
the  request,  happened  to  reach  his  brother-in-law 
when  the  latter  was  in  the  company  of  Sir  William 
Keith,  governor  of  the  province,  and  the  composition 
and  penmanship  struck  him  as  so  much  superior  to 
the  ordinary  style  of  letter-writing,  that  he  showed  it 
to  his  excellency.  The  governor  was  greatly  pleased 
with  it,  and  expressed  the  utmost  surprise  when  told 
the  age  of  the  writer.  He  observed  that  he  must  be 
a  young  man  of  promising  talents,  and  said  that  if  he 


BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN.  127 

would  set  up  business  on  his  OAvn  account  at  Phila- 
delphia, he  would  procure  him  the  printing  of  all  the 
public  papers,  and  do  hini  every  other  service  in  his 
power.  Franklin  heard  nothing  of  this  from  his 
brother-in-law  at  the  time  ;  but  one  day,  while  he  and 
Keimer  were  at  work  in  the  ofRce,  they  observed, 
through  the  window,  the  governor  and  another  gen- 
tleman— who  proved  to  be  Colonel  French,  of  New- 
castle, in  the  province  of  Delaware — finely  dressed, 
cross  the  street,  and  come  directly  to  the  office,  where 
tiiey  knocked  at  the  door. 

Keimer  ran  down,  in  high  expectation  of  this  being 
a  visit  to  himself;  "  but  the  governor,"  says  Franklin, 
"  inquired  for  me,  came  up  stairs,  and,  with  a  polite- 
ness to  Avhich  I  had  not  at  all  been  accustomed,  paid  me 
many  compliments,  desired  to  be  acquainted  with  me, 
obligingly  reproached  me  for  not  having  made  myself 
known  to  him  on  my  arrival  in  town,  and  wished  me 
to  accompany  him  to  a  tavern,  where  he  and  Colonel 
French  were  going  to  taste  some  excellent  Madeira 
wine  !  I  was,  I  confess,  somewhat  surprised,  and 
Keimer  was  thunderstruck.  I  went,  however,  with 
the  governor  and  Colonel  French  to  a  tavern  at  the 
corner  of  Third  street,  where,  while  we  were  drinking 
the  Madeira,  he  proposed  to  me  to  establish  a  printing- 
house.  He  set  forth  the  probabilities  of  success,  and 
himself  and  Colonel  French  assured  me  that  I  should 
have  their  protection  and  influence  in  obtaining  the 
printing  of  the  public  papers  for  both  governments ; 
and,  as  I  appeared  to  doubt  whether  my  father  would 
assist  me  in  this  enterprise.  Sir  William  said  that  he 
would  give  me  a  letter  to  him,  in  which  he  would 


12S  BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN. 

recommend  the  advantages  of  the  scheme  in  a  ught 
which  he  had  no  doubt  would  determine  him  to  agree 
to  do  so.  It  was  thus  concluded  that  I  should  return 
to  Boston  by  the  first  vessel,  with  the  letter  of  recom- 
mendation from  the  governor  to  my  father.  Mean- 
while, the  project  was  to  be  kept  secret,  and  I  con- 
tinued to  work  for  Keimer  as  before.  The  governor 
subsequently  sent  for  me  every  now  and  then  to  dine 
with  him.  I  considered  this  as  a  very  great  honor ; 
and  I  was  the  more  sensible  of  it,  as  he  conversed 
with  me  in  the  most  affable,  friendly,  and  familiar 
manner  imaginable." 

In  pursuance  of  the  above  arrangement,  Franklin 
set  out  on  his  return  homewards,  in  the  end  of  April, 
1724,  having  been  absent  seven  months,  during  which 
time  his  parents  and  relations  had  heard  nothing  of 
him  whatever,  his  brother-in-law  never  having  written 
to  inform  them  where  he  was.  All  the  family,  with 
tlie  exception  of  his  brother  James,  were  delighted  to 
see  him ;  and  not  the  less  so,  perhaps,  that  he  was 
apparelled  in  a  complete  new  suit  of  clothes,  had  an 
excellent  silver  watch,  and  about  five  pounds  sterling 
in  his  pocket.  His  father  was  exceedingly  surprised 
when  informed  of  the  object  of  his  visit,  and  still  more 
at  the  contents  of  Governor  Keith's  epistle.  After 
long  deliberation,  he  came  to  the  resolution  of  refus- 
ing compliance  Avith  the  request,  on  account  of  his  son 
being  too  young  to  undertake  the  management  of  such 
a  speculation ;  adding,  that  he  thought  the  governor 
a  man  of  little  discretion  in  proposing  it.  He  prom- 
ised, however,  when  his  son  should  attain  his  twenty- 
first  year,  that  he  would  supply  him  with  Avhat  money 


BENJABIIN    FRANKLIN.  129 

he  required  to  set  him  up  in  business,  praising 
liim  highly,  at  the  same  time,  for  his  industry  and 
good  conduct.  Franklin,  accordingly,  was  obliged  to 
return  to  Philadelphia  with  the  news  of  his  bad  suc- 
cess, but  left  Boston  on  this  occasion  accompanied  by 
the  blessings  of  his  parents.  "When  he  arrived  at 
Philadelphia,  he  immediately  waited  upon  the  gover- 
nor, and  communicated  the  result  of  his  journey.  Sir 
William  observed  that  his  father  was  "  too  prudent ;" 
but  added,  "  since  he  will  not  do  it,  I  will  do  it  myself." 
It  was  ultimately  arranged,  therefore,  that  Franklin 
should  proceed  personally  to  London  to  purchase 
everything  necessary  for  the  proposed  establishment, 
for  the  expense  of  which  the  governor  promised  him 
a  letter  of  credit  to  the  extent  of  £100,  with  recom- 
mendations to  various  people  of  influence. 

It  had  been  arranged  that  Franklin  was  to  go  to 
England  in  the  regular  packet-ship ;  and  as  the  time 
of  her  sailing  drew  near,  he  became  importunate  for 
the  governor's  letters  of  credit  and  recommendation, 
but  the  latter  always  put  him  off  under  various  pre- 
tences. At  last,  when  the  vessel  was  on  the  point  of 
departing,  he  was  sent  on  board,  under  the  assurance 
that  Colonel  French  would  bring  the  letters  to  him 
immediately.  That  gentleman  accordingly  came  on 
board  with  a  packet  of  despatches  tied  together,  which 
were  put  into  the  captain's  bag,  and  Franklin  was 
informed  that  those  intended  for  him  were  tied  up 
with  the  rest,  and  would  ^e  delivered  to  him  before 
landing  in  England.  When  they  arrived  in  the 
Thames,  accordingly,  the  captain  allowed  him  to 
search  the  bag,  but  Franklin  could  find  no  letters 
I 


loO  BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN. 

directed  either  to  himself,  or  addressed  as  to  his  care; 
but  he  selected  six  or  seven,  which,  from  the  directions 
on  them,  he  conceived  to  be  those  intended  for  his  ser- 
vice. One  of  these  was  to  the  king's  printer,  and 
Franklin  accordingly  Avaited  upon  that  gentleman 
with  it ;  but  the  latter  had  no  sooner  opened  it,  than 
he  exclaimed,  "  Oh,  this  is  from  Riddlesden  ! — a  well- 
known  rascally  attorney  at  Philadelphia;  I  have 
lately  discovered  him  to  be  an  arrant  knave,  and  wish 
to  have  nothing  to  do  either  with  him  or  his  letters." 
So  saying,  he  turned  on  his  heel,  and  resumed  his 
occupation.  In  short,  it  turned  out  that  none  of  the 
letters  were  from  the  governor ;  and  he  soon  learned 
from  a  gentleman,  of  the  name  of  Denham,  who  had 
been  a  fellow-passenger  with  him,  and  to  whom  he 
explained  his  awkward  situation,  that  the  governor 
was  a  complete  cheat,  deceiving  people  from  vanity 
and  a  love  of  self-consequence,  with  promises  which 
he  neither  intended  nor  was  able  to  fulfil — and  laughed 
at  the  idea  of  a  man  giving  a  letter  of  credit  for  £100, 
who  had  no  credit  for  himself. 

Franklin's  situation  was  now  even  more  desolate 
than  when  set  ashore,  ragged,  hungry,  and  almost 
penniless,  at  Philadelphia,  little  more  than  a  twelve- 
month before.  But  the  heart,  at  eighteen,  is  not 
naturally  inclined  to  despond,  and  never  was  one  less 
so  than  that  of  Franklin.  He  immediately  applied 
for  and  obtained  employment  in  the  office  of  the  cele- 
brated Mr.  Palmer.  Amongst  other  works  on  Avhich 
he  was  set  to  work  here,  was  a  second  edition  of 
Wollaston's  Religion  of  Nature.  Conceiving  some 
of  the  positions  assumed  in  it  to  be  weak  or  erroneous, 


BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN.  131 

he  composed  and  published  a  small  metaphysical  trea- 
tise in  refutation  of  them.  This  pamphlet  acquired 
him  considerable  credit  with  his  master,  as  a  man  of 
talent ;  but  that  gentleman  reprobated,  Avith  the  utmost 
abhorrence,  the  doctrines  maintained  in  his  publica- 
tion, which,  truth  compels  us  to  say,  were  completely 
irreligious,  so  far  as  regarded  the  Christian  faith,  or 
any  other  acknowledged  system  of  belief.  Free- 
thinking,  however,  was  then  in  fashion  among  the 
higher  and  more  learned  classes,  and  his  pamphlet 
procured  him  the  countenance  of  various  eminent 
individuals ;  amongst  the  rest,  of  Dr.  Mandeville, 
author  of  the  Fable  of  the  Bees,  and  Dr.  Pemberton, 
Sir  Isaac  Newton's  friend.  He  was  likewise  Avaited 
upon  by  Sir  Hans  Sloane,  who  had  been  informed  of 
his  bringing  some  curiosities  with  him  from  America ; 
amongst  others,  a  purse  of  asbestos — a  natural  sub- 
stance which  resists  the  action  of  fire,  and  then  very 
little  knoAATi — for  which  he  paid  Franklin  a  high 
price.  From  Mr.  Palmer's  office  he  removed  to  Mr. 
Watts',  in  consideration  of  higher  wages.  Here 
he  gave  a  striking  proof  of  that  resolute  adherence 
to  temperance,  industry,  and  frugality,  which  were 
among  the  leading  features  of  his  character.  Whilst 
Mr.  Watts'  other  workmen  spent  generally  five  or  six 
shillings  a  week  on  beer,  Avhich  was  brought  into  the 
office  to  them  during  the  day,  he  drank  nothing  but 
water ;  and  they  were  surprised  to  see  that  he  was 
much  stronger  than  any  of  them,  while  he  himself 
had  the  additional  comfort  and  satisfaction  of  being 
always  clear-headed.  At  first,  they  ridiculed  his 
abstinence,  and  conferred  on  him  the  soubriquet  of  the 


132  BEXJAT.IIN    FRANKLIN. 

American  Aquatic;  but  as  his  character  rose  amongst 
them,  his  example,  he  says,  "prevailed  with  several 
of  them  to  renounce  their  abominable  breakfast  of 
bread  and  cheese,  with  beer ;  and  they  procured,  like 
me,  from  a  neighboring  house,  a  good  basin  of  warm 
gruel,  in  which  was  a  small  slice  of  butter ;  with 
toasted  bread  and  nutmeg.  This  was  a  much  better 
breakfast,  which  did  not  cost  more  than  a  pint  of  beer, 
namely,  three  halfpence,  and  at  the  same  time  pre- 
served the  head  clearer."  His  assiduous  application 
to  business,  at  the  same  time,  together  with  remarka- 
ble quickness  in  composi?ig,  (setting  up  the  types,) 
recommended  him  to  his  employer,  and  procured  him 
all  the  most  urgent  and  best-paid  work ;  so  that,  with 
his  frugal  mode  of  living,  he  quickly  laid  up  money. 
After  having  been  about  eighteen  months  in  Lon- 
don, much  to  his  advantage  in  every  respect,  he  was 
about  to  set  out  on  a  tour  through  Europe,  with  a 
young,  intelligent  fellow-workman — designing  to 
maintain  themselves  during  their  pilgrimage  by  means 
of  their  calling — when  he  accidentally  met  with  Mr. 
Denham,  before  noticed  as  being  his  fellow-passenger 
from  America.  That  gentleman  was  on  the  eve  of 
returning  to  Philadelphia,  to  open  a  merchant's  store, 
and  offered  Franklin  the  situation  of  his  clerk,  with 
a  salary  of  £50  per  annum.  This  sum  was  less  than 
he  was  making  as  a  compositor;  but  an  anxious 
desire  to  revisit  his  native  country  induced  him  to 
accept  it.  They  set  sail  accordingly — Franklin  now 
supposing  he  had  relinquished  the  composing-stick 
forever — and  arrived  at  Philadelphia  on  the  11th  of 
October,  1726.     Franklin  had  just  entered  his  twenty- 


BENJAMIN   FRANKLIN. 


133 


first  year  at  this  time  ;  and  he  mentions  having  drawn 
up  for  himself  in  writing,  during  the  voyage,  a  plan 
for  the  regulation  of  his  future  conduct.  This  inter- 
esting document  was  afterwards  unfortunately  lost; 
but  he  tells  us  himself  that  he  pretty  faithfully  adhered 
to  the  rules  thus  early  laid  down,  even  into  old  age. 
Upon  his  arrival,  he  found  his  old  acquaintance,  the 
governor,  had  been  supplanted  in  his  office,  and  was 
held  in  general  contempt.  They  met  several  times, 
but  no  allusion  was  ever  made  by  Franklin  to  the 
disgraceful  imposture  the  other  had  practised  on  him. 
Franklin's  new  employer  had  only  been  in  business 
for  a  few  months,  when  both  were  seized  at  the  same 
time  with  a  violent  disorder,  Avhich  carried  ofT  the 
master  in  a  few  days,  and  brought  the  clerk  to  the 
brink  of  the  grave.  On  his  recovery,  being  thus  once 
more  left  destitute,  he  was  fain  to  accept  employment 
as  a  printer  from  his  old  master,  Keimer,  who  Avas  now 
somewhat  better  off  in  the  world,  but  still  utterly 
ignorant  of  his  profession.  The  whole  charge  of  the 
office,  with  that  of  instructing  four  or  five  ignorant 
apprentices,  devolved  on  Franklin. 

Keimer,  having  engaged  him  solely  Avith  the  view 
of  having  his  apprentices  so  far  initiated  in  the  art  as 
that  he  could  dispense  with  their  instructor's  services, 
took  the  first  occasion  to  quarrel  with  him  when  he 
thought  he  had  sufficiently  attained  his  object.  Upon 
their  separation,  one  of  Keimer's  apprentices,  named 
Meredith,  who,  like  all  the  others,  had  conceived  a  great 
veneration  for  Franklin,  proposed  that  they  should 
enter  into  partnership  together— JMeredith's  friends 
undertaking  to  furnish  the  capital  necessary  for  pur- 
VI.— 12 


134  BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN. 

chasing  llie  materials,  &c.  This  offer  was  too  advan- 
tageous to  be  refused  ;  and  types,  press,  &c.,  were 
forthwith  ordered  from  London ;  but  while  preparing 
to  put  their  plan  into  execution,  Franklin  was  in- 
duced, during  the  interval,  to  return  again  to  Keimer, 
at  the  urgent  solicitation  of  the  latter.  The  motive  for 
this  humble  entreaty  was  that  individual's  having 
taken  a  contract  for  the  printing  of  some  paper  m.oney 
for  the  state  of  New  Jersey,  requiring  a  variety  of  new 
cuts  and  types,  which  he  knew  well  nobody  in  that 
place  but  Franklin  could  supply.  This  presents  •  us 
with  a  very  striking  instance  of  Franklin's  remarkable 
gift  of  invention. 

"  To  execute  the  order,"  says  he,  "  I  constructed  a 
copper-plate  printing-press — the  first  that  had  been 
seen  in  the  country.  I  engraved  various  ornaments 
and  vignettes  for  the  bills,  and  we  repaired  to  Bur- 
lington together,  where  I  executed  the  whole  to  the 
general  satisfaction,  and  Keimer  received  a  sum  of 
money  for  this  work,  which  enabled  him  to  keep  his 
head  above  water  for  a  considerable  time  longer." 

At  Burlington,  Franklin  formed  acquaintance  with 
all  the  principal  personages  of  the  province,  who  were 
attracted  by  his  superior  abilities  and  intelligence. 
Scarcely  had  he  returned  to  Philadelphia,  when  the 
types  ordered  for  himself  and  Meredith,  from  London, 
arrived;  and  having  settled  rhatters  with  Keimer,  the 
partners  immediately  took  a  house,  and  commenced 
business.  They  were  in  the  act  of  opening  their 
packages,  when  a  countryman  came  in  to  have  a  job 
done;  and  as  all  their  cash  had  been  expended  in 
their  various  purchases,  "  this  countryman's  five  shil- 


BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN.  135 

lings,"  says  Franklin,  "being  our  first  fruits,  and 
coming  so  seasonably,  gave  me  more  pleasure  than 
any  crown  I  have  since  earned."  A  number  of  young 
men  having,  during  the  preceding  year,  formed  them- 
selves, at  Franklin's  suggestion,  into  a  weekly  club 
for  the  purpose  of  mutual  improvement,  they  were  so 
well  pleased  with  the  beneficial  results  they  experi- 
enced from  their  meetings,  that,  when  the  originator 
of  their  society  set  up  in  business,  every  one  exerted 
himself  to  procure  him  employment.  One  of  them 
obtained  from  the  Quakers  the  printing  of  forty  sheets 
of  a  history  of  that  sect,  then  preparing  at  the  expense 
of  the  body.  "Upon  these,"  says  Franklin,  "we 
worked  exceeding  hard,  for  the  price  was  very  low. 
It  was  in  folio,  upon  pro  jyatria  paper,  and  in  the  pica 
letter,  with  heavy  notes  in  the  smallest  type.  I  com- 
posed a  sheet  a  day,  and  Meredith  put  it  to  press.  It 
was  frequently  eleven  o'clock  at  night,  sometimes  later, 
before  I  had  finished  my  distribution  for  the  next  day's 
task, — for  the  other  little  jobs  that  came  in  kept  us  back 
in  this  work ;  but  I  was  so  determined  to  compose  a 
sheet  a  day,  that,  one  evening,  when  my  form  was 
imposed,  and  my  day's  work,  as  I  thought,  at  an  end, 
an  accident  broke  the  form,  and  deranged  two  com- 
plete folio  pages.  I  immediately  distributed  and 
composed  them  anew  before  I  went  to  bed."  This 
unwearied  industry,  Avhich  soon  became  known, 
acquired  Franklin  great  reputation  and  credit  amongst 
his  townsmen,  and  business  began  rapidly  to  flow  in 
upon  them. 

The  establishment  and  management  of  a  newspaper 
seems  to  have  always  been  a  favorite  project  with 


136  BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN, 

Franklin ;  probably  because,  from,  his  former  experi- 
ence in  it,  and  the  consciousness  of  his  powers  of 
writing,  he  felt  himself  so  well  adapted  for  the  task. 
The  partners  soon  found  themselves  in  circumstances 
to  enable  them  to  make  the  trial ;  but  Franklin  having 
incautiously  divulged  their  intention  to  a  third  person, 
that  individual  informed  their  old  master,  Keimer,  of 
the  fact,  who  immediately  took  steps  to  anticipate 
them,  and  issued  a  prospectus  of  a  paper  of  his  own. 
The  manner  in  which  Franklin  met  and  defeated  this 
treachery  is  exceedingly  characteristic.  There  was 
another  paper  published  in  Philadelphia  by  Mr.  Brad- 
ford, which  had  been  in  existence  for  some  years,  but 
was  such  a  miserable  affair  that  it  only  preserved  its 
vitality  because  no  other  arose  to  knock  it  on  the  head. 
In  order  to  keep  down  Keimer's  publication,  however, 
Franklin  saw  the  policy  of  supporting  the  old  one, 
until  prepared  to  start  his  own.  He  thereupon  set 
about  writing  a  series  of  amusing  articles  for  it,  which 
the  pviblisher,  Bradford,  was  of  course  very  glad  to 
insert.  "  By  this  means,"  says  Franklin,  "the  atten- 
tion of  the  public  was  kept  fixed  on  that  paper,  and 
Keimer's  proposals,  which  we  burlesqued  and  ridicu- 
led, were  disregarded.  He  began  his  paper,  however, 
and  after  continuing  it  for  nine  months,  having  at 
most  not  more  than  ninety  subscribers,  he  offered  it  to 
me  for  a  mere  trifle.  I  had  for  some  time  been  pre- 
pared for  it.  I  therefore  instantly  took  it  upon  myself, 
and  in  a  few  years  it  proved  very  profitable  to  me." 
In  fact,  it  obtained  notoriety  and  applause  from  the 
very  first  number,  in  consequence  of  some  observations 
therein  by  Franklin,  on  an  important  colonial  question ; 


liENJAMlN    FKANKLIN.  137 

and  various  members  of  the  assembly  exerted  them- 
selves so  well  in  his  behalf,  that  the  printing  of  the 
house  was  speedily  transferred  from  Bradford  to  his 
two  young  rivals.  In  the  management  of  his  news- 
paper, Franklin  pursued  a  system  of  unflinching  integ- 
rity. He  steadfastly  refused  to  give  admission  into 
his  columns  of  any  article  containing  personal  abuse. 
Whenever  he  was  requested  to  publish  anything  of 
this  sort,  his  answer  was,  that  he  would  print  the 
piece  by  itself,  and  give  the  author  as  many  copies  for 
his  own  distribution  as  he  wished.  He  very  wisely 
considered  that  his  subscribers  expected  him  to  furnish 
them  with  useful  and  entertaining  information,  and 
not  with  personal  slander  or  private  discussions  with 
which  they  had  no  concern. 

Luckily  for  Franklin,  almost  at  the  commencement 
of  the  newspaper,  an  opportunity  occurred  of  getting 
rid  of  his  partner,  Meredith,  who  had  become  an  idle, 
drunken  fellow,  and  had  all  along  been  of  compara- 
tively little  use  in  the  concern.  Meredith's  father 
failed  to  complete  the  bargain  for  advancing  the  neces- 
sary capital  to  pay  the  demands  of  the  paper  merchant, 
and  other  expenses  necessarily  attending  their  specu- 
lation, when  they  became  due.  A  suit  was  accordingly 
instituted  against  the  partners,  and,  as  Meredith's 
father  declared  his  inability  to  pay  the  amount  of  the 
claims  upon  them,  the  son  ofTered  to  relinquish  the 
whole  concern  into  Franklin's  hands,  on  condition 
that  the  latter  would  take  upon  him  the  debts  of  the 
company,  repay  his  father  what  he  had  already 
advanced,  settle  his  own  little  personal  debts,  and 
give  him  thirty  pounds — and  a  neio  saddle .'  By  the 
12* 


138  BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN. 

kindness  of  two  friends,  who,  unknown  to  each  other, 
came  forward,  simuhaneously  and  unasked,  to  his 
assistance,  Franklin  was  enabled  to  accept  the  ofTer. 
The  agreement  was  carried  into  effect;  and  thus  do 
we  find  this  extraordinary  man,  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
four,  and  in  the  place  where  he  had  arrived  penniless 
only  seven  years  before,  settled  down  in  business,  with 
a  thriving  trade;  proprietor  of  an  extensively  circu- 
lated newspaper,  and  a  firmly  established  reputation 
of  no  ordinary  kind.  All  this  success,  however,  the 
result  of  his  own  good  conduct,  perseverance,  and 
frugality,  had  no  undue  effect  on  his  well-regulated 
mind,  nor  could  it  induce  him  to  assume  those  airs 
of  arrogant  superiority  and  pretension,  which  have 
but  too  frequently  blemished  the  character  of  those 
who  have  worthily  achieved  their  own  elevation  in 
society.  On  the  contrary,  he  dressed  more  plainly, 
and  deported  himself  more  humbly,  than  ever ;  and  to 
show  that  he  was  not  above  his  business,  he  sometimes 
wheeled  home  on  a  barrow,  with  his  own  hands,  the 
paper  which  he  purchased  at  the  stores. 

Although  we  are,  in  a  manner,  only  arrived  at  the 
commencement  of  that  long  career  of  usefulness  as  a 
citizen,  a  statesman,  and  a  philosopher,  which  has 
rendered  his  name  so  illustrious,  we  have  undoubtedly 
passed  through  the  most  interesting  part  of  his  biog- 
raphy. We  have  noted  by  what  means — by  what 
patient  exertion,  self-control,  industry,  frugality,  tem- 
perance, and  integrity,  he  overcame  all  obstacles,  and 
attained  the  station  at  which  we  have  seen  him  arrive 
— fitted  himself  for  the  discharge  of  those  important 
duties  to  which  the  voice  of  his  country  called  him — 


BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN.  139 

and  acquired  those  fixed  habits  of  study,  observation, 
and  inquisitive  research,  by  which  he  afterwards  pene- 
trated so  deep  into  the  arcanuin'of  nature's  mysteries. 
It  will  be  needless  for  us,  therefore,  to  trace  his  private 
history  so  minutely  as  we  have  hitherto  done,  through 
the  remainder  of  his  eminently  successful  career. 

Soon  after  getting  the  whole  printing  and  news- 
paper concern  into  his  hands,  there  was  an  outcry 
among  the  people  for  a  new  emission  of  paper  money. 
Franklin  took  up  the  cause,  and  by  his  arguments,  in 
a  pamphlet  which  he  published  on  the  subject,  contrib- 
uted so  greatly  to  the  success  of  the  proposal,  and, 
obtained  himself  so  much  popularity,  that,  upon  its 
being  resolved  to  issue  the  notes,  Franklin  was  selected 
to  print  them.  He  then  opened  a  stationer's  shop,  and, 
from  his  success  in  business,  began  gradually  to  pay 
ofT  his  debts.  He  took  care,  he  says,  not  only  to  be 
really  industrious  and  frugal,  but  also  to  avoid  every 
appearance  to  the  contrary — was  plainly  dressed,  and 
was  never  seen  in  any  place  of  public  amusement ; 
never  went  a  fishing  or  hunting.  A  book,  indeed, 
enticed  him  sometimes  from  his  work,  but  even  that 
indulgence  was  seldom,  and  by  stealth.  Meanwhile, 
his  old  master,  Keimer,  went  fast  to  ruin,  and,  with  the 
exception  of  old  Mr.  Bradford,  who  was  rich  and  did 
not  care  for  business,  he  was  the  only  printer  in  the 
place.  He  shortly  afterwards  married  Miss  Read,  the 
lady  named  in  a  former  part  of  this  memoir,  Frank- 
lin s  behavior  to  this  young  lady  had  not  been 
altogether  blameless.  Previous  to  his  sailing  for 
England,  he  had  exchanged  pledges  of  affection  with 
her ;  yet,  all  the  while  he  was  away,  he  only  sent  her 


140  BENJAMIN    FKANKLIN. 

one  letter.  She  as  Avell  as  her  friends  concluded  that, 
he  either  never  meant  to  return,  or  that  he  wished  to 
drop  his  connection  'with  her;  she  was  therefore 
induced  to  accept  the  hand  of  another  suitor ;  and,  on 
his  return  to  America,  Franklin  found  her  married — 
an  event  that  seems  to  have  given  him  extremely  lit- 
tle uneasiness.  The  lady's  husband  proved  a  great 
rogue,  and  deserted  her,  and  it  was  subsequently 
ascertained  that  he  had  still  a  former  wife  living. 
After  being  established  in  business,  and  rising  in  the 
world,  the  intimacy  between  Franklin  and  her  family 
was  renewed,  and  it  was  not  long,  despite  her  dubious 
situation,  that  they  hazarded  a  fulfilment  of  their  early 
vows.  The  lady  was  about  Franklin's  own  age,  and 
proved,  according  to  his  own  testimony,  "  an  honor 
and  a  blessing"  to  him. 

In  1731,  Franklin  drew  up  proposals  for  a  public 
subscription  library  at  Philadelphia,  being  the  first 
project  of  the  sort  that  had  been  started  in  America. 
Fifty  persons  at  first  subscribed  forty  shillings  each, 
and  agreed  to  pay  ten  shillings  annually ;  and  the 
establishment  was  put  under  such  judicious  rules  of 
management,  that  in  the  course  of  ten  years  it  became 
so  valuable  and  important  as  to  induce  the  proprietors 
to  get  themselves  incorporated  by  royal  charter.  This 
library  afforded  its  founder  facilities  of  improvement 
of  which  he  did  not  fail  to  avail  himself,  setting  apart, 
as  he  tells  us,  an  hour  or  two  every  day  for  study, 
which  was  the  only  amusement  he  allowed  himself. 

In  1732,  Franklin  began  to  publish  his  Poor  Eich- 
ard's  Almanac,  so  called  from  his  giving  it  forth 
under  the  name  of  Richard  Saunders.     It  was  chiefly 


BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN.  141 

remarkable  for  the  numerous  and  pithy  maxims  it 
contained,  all  tending  to  inculcate  industry  and  fru- 
gality. It  was  continued  annually  for  twenty-five 
years,  and  the  proverbs  and  trite  moral  observations 
scattered  throughout  were  afterwards  thrown  to- 
gether into  a  connected  discourse,  under  the  title  of 
the  "Way  to  Wealth."  So  highly  esteemed  was  this 
production  amongst  his  countrymen,  that  copies  of  it 
were  long  to  be  found,  framed  and  glazed,  in  the 
houses  of  the  p'fcople  in  Philadelphia,  and  indeed  in 
every  part  of  the  country. 

As  Franklin  advanced  in  worldly  prosperity,  he 
endeavored  to  make  his  personal  acquirements  keep 
pace  with  his  upward  progress  in  society ;  and, 
amongst  other  accomplishments,  he  applied  himself 
sedulously  to  the  study  of  the  dead  and  modern  lan- 
guages, of  which,  besides  his  native  tongue,  he  as  yet 
scarcely  knew  anything.  The  following  is  his  own 
account  of  his  progress  : — 

"  I  had  begun,  in  1733,  to  study  languages.  I  soon 
made  myself  so  much  a  master  of  the  French,  as  to 
be  able  to  read  the  books  in  that  language  -with  ease. 
I  then  undertook  the  Italian.  An  acquaintance,  who 
was  also  learning  it,  used  often  to  tempt  me  to  play 
chess  with  him.  Finding  this  took  up  too  much  of 
the  time  I  had  to  spare  for  study,  I  at  length  refused 
to  play  any  more,  unless  on  this  condition ;  that  the 
victor  in  every  game  should  have  a  right  to  impose  a 
task,  cither  of  parts  of  the  grammar  to  be  got  by 
heart,  or  in  translations,  &c.,  which  tasks  the  van- 
quished was  to  perform  upon  honor  before  our  next 
meeting.     As  we  played  pretty  equally,  we  thus  beat 


142  BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN. 

one  another  into  that  language.  I  afterwards,  with 
a  little  pains-taking,  acquired  as  much  of  the  Spanish 
as  to  read  their  books  also.  I  have  already  men- 
tioned that  I  had  only  one  year's  instruction  in  a 
Latin  school,  and  that  when  very  young,  after  which 
I  neglected  that  language  entirely ;  but  when  I  had 
attained  an  acquaintance  with  the  French,  Italian, 
and  Spanish,  I  was  surprised  to  find,  on  looking  over 
a  Latin  Testament,  that  I  understood  more  of  that 
language  than  I  had  imagined,  which'  encouraged  me 
to  apply  myself  again  to  the  study  of  it ;  and  I  met 
with  the  more  success,  as  those  preceding  languages 
had  greatly  smoothed  my  way." 

It  was  not  to  be  supposed  that  a  man  of  Franklin's 
comprehensive  mind  and  useful  practical  talents, 
would  be  allowed  to  remain  long  in  the  ranks  of  pri- 
vate life.  Accordingly,  in  the  year  1736,  he  was 
appointed  clerk  to  the  General  Assembly  of  Pennsyl- 
vania. No  opposition  was  made  to  his  appointment 
the  first  year ;  but,  on  the  next  election,  a  new  mem- 
ber of  the  house  opposed  his  return  in  a  long  speech. 
Franklin  was,  however,  again  elected,  much  to  his 
satisfaction ;  for,  although  the  place  was  one  of  very 
little  direct  emolument,  it  gave  him  an  opportunity  of 
making  friends  amongst  the  members,  and  ultimately 
to  secure  to  himself  the  printing  of  most  of  the  public 
papers,  which  was  previously  shared  with  his  rivals. 
The  new  member  who  had  resisted  his  reelection,  was 
a  man  of  talents  and  character ;  and  Franklin,  although 
too  independent  to  pay  any  cringing  servility  to  him, 
perceived  the  propriety  of  gaining  his  good  opinion  ; 
and  the  expedient  he  hit  upon  for  this  purpose  affords 


BEXJAMIN    FRANKLIN.  143 

another  instance  of  his  shrewdness  and  knowledge  of 
human  nature.  Having  learned  that  the  gentleman 
possessed  a  very  rare  and  curious  book,  he  wrote  him 
a  polite  note,  requesting  that  he  would  do  him  the 
favor  of  lending  it  for  a  few  days.  The  book  was 
immediately  sent ;  and  in  about  a  week  was  returned 
by  the  borrower,  with  a  short  epistle,  expressive  of 
his  gratitude  for  the  favor.  The  member  was  so 
much  conciliated  by  the  circumstance,  that,  the  next 
time  he  met  him  in  the  house,  he  addressed  him  with 
great  civility,  manifested  ever  afterwards  a  great 
desire  to  serve  him,  and  they  became,  in  short,  inti- 
mate friends.  "  This  is  another  instance,"  observes 
Franklin,  "  of  the  truth  of  an  old  maxim  I  had 
learned,  which  says,  '  He  that  has  done  you  a  kind- 
ness, will  be  more  ready  to  do  you  another,  than  he 
whom  you  yourself  have  obliged.'  And  it  shows 
how  much  more  profitable  it  is  prudently  to  remove, 
than  to  resent,  return,  and  continue,  inim.ical  proceed- 
ings." He  was  thereafter  reelected  to  the  same  post, 
without  opposition,  for  several  years  successively. 
In  the  following  year,  1737,  he  supplanted  his  rival 
in  trade,  Bradford,  in  the  office  of  deputy-postmaster 
for  the  state  of  Pennsylvania.  These  honorable  pre- 
ferments induced  him  to  incline  his  thoughts  to,  and 
take  a  more  active  part  in,  public  affairs  than  he  had 
hitherto  done. 

He  first  turned  his  attention  to  the  state  of  the  city 
police,  which  was  then  in  a  shameful  condition,  and 
he  soon  effected  a  thorough  reformation  in  the  whole 
system.  He  suggested  and  promoted  the  establish- 
ment of  a  fire  insurance  company,  the  first  that  was 


144  BENJAMIN   FRANKLIN. 

projected  in  America.  He  afterwards  successively 
exerted  himself  in  organizing  a  philosophical  society, 
an  academy  for  the  education  of  youth,  and  a  militia 
for  the  defence  of  the  province.  In  short,  every 
department  of  the  civil  government,  as  he  tells  us, 
and  almost  at  the  same  time,  imposed  some  duty  upon 
him.  "  The  governor,"  says  he,  "  put  me  into  the 
commission  of  the  peace  ;  the  corporations  of  the  city 
chose  me  one  of  the  common  council ;  and  the  citizens 
at  large  elected  me,  1747,  a  hurgess  to  represent  them 
in  assembly.  This  latter  station  was  the  more  agree- 
able to  me,  as  I  grew  at  length  tired  with  sitting  there 
to  hear  the  debates,  in  which,  as  clerk,  I  could  take 
no  part,  and  which  were  often  so  uninteresting,  that  I 
was  induced  to  amuse  myself  with  making  magic 
squares,  or  circles,  or  anything,  to  avoid  weariness ; 
and  I  conceived  my  becoming  a  member  would  enlarge 
my  power  of  doing  good.  I  would  not,  however,  in- 
sinuate that  my  ambition  was  not  flattered  by  all  these 
promotions ;  it  certainly  was — for,  considering  my  low 
beginning,  they  were  great  things  to  me ;  and  they 
were  still  more  pleasing,  as  being  so  many  spontane- 
ous testimonies  of  the  public  good  opinion,  and  by  me 
entirely  unsolicited." 

At  this  time  there  was  no  military  defensive  force 
in  Pennsylvania.  The  inhabitants  were  mostly  Qua- 
kers, and  neglected  to  take  any  measures  of  precau- 
tion against  the  dangers  to  which,  from  ihe  French 
possessions  in  Canada,  they  were  continually  exposed. 
All  the  exertions  of  the  governor  of  the  province,  to 
induce  the  Quaker  Assembly  to  pass  a  militia  law, 
proved    ineffectual.      Franklin    thought    something 


BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN.  145 

might  be  done  by  a  subscription  among  the  people  ; 
and  to  pave  the  way  for  this,  he  wrote  and  published 
a  pamphlet  called  "  Plain  Truth."  In  this  he  clearly 
exposed  their  helpless  and  perilous  situation,  and 
demonstrated  the  necessity  of  cooperating  for  their 
mutual  defence.  The  pamphlet  had  a  sudden  and 
surprising  effect.  A  meeting  of  the  citizens  was 
held,  at  which  proposals  of  the  intended  union,  pre- 
viously drawn  up  and  printed  by  Franklin,  were  dis- 
tributed about  the  room,  to  be  signed  by  those  who 
approved  of  them;  and  when  the  company  separated, 
it  was  found  that  above  twelve  hundred  signatures 
had  been  appended  to  the  papers.  Other  copies  were 
distributed  through  the  province,  and  the  subscribers 
at  length  amounted  to  upwards  of  ten  thousand  !  All 
these  individuals  furnished  themselves,  as  soon  as 
they  could,  with  arms ;  formed  themselves  into  com- 
panies and  regiments ;  chose  their  officers,  and  had 
themselves  regularly  instructed  in  military  exercises. 
The  women  made  subscriptions  amongst  themselves, 
and  provided  silk  colors,  which  they  presented  to  the 
companies,  embellished  with  devices  and  mottoes  fur- 
nished by  Franklin.  Such  influence  has  one  mnstpr- 
mind  amongst  his  fellows  in  a  time  of  emergency* 

Franklin's  modesty,  however,  was  more  than  com- 
mensurate with  his  patriotism.  The  officers  of  the 
companies  composing  the  Philadelphia  regiment  unan- 
imously chose  him  for  their  colonel,  but  he  declined 
the  office  in  favor  of  a  man  of  greater  wealth  and 
influence,  who,  on  his  recommendation,  was  immedi- 
ately elected. 

It  would,  perhaps,  have  been  desirable  to  have  fol- 
j  VI.— 13 


146  BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN. 

lowed  Fmnklin  through  the  remainder  of  liis  public 
and  political  career,  without  pausing  to  advert  to  other 
pursuits,  entirely  unconnected  therewith,  to  which  he 
devoted  himself.  We  find,  however,  that  the  chrono- 
logical violence  of  which  we  should  in  that  case 
be  guilty,  would  only  serve  to  confuse  our  narrative. 
We  will,  therefore,  proceed  to  introduce  him  to  our 
readers  in  an  entirely  new  character  from  any  in 
which  they  have  yet  seen  him. 

Down  to  the  close  of  the  sixteenth  century,  all  that 
was  known  of  the  principle  of  electricity  was  that 
amber  and  a  few  other  substances,  when  rubbed,  had 
the  power  of  attracting  to  them  light  bodies,  such  as 
small  bits  of  paper,  straw,  &c.  In  1728,  it  was  dis- 
covered that  electricity  might  be  communicated  from 
one  body  to  another  without  their  being  in  contact. 
In  1746,  it  was  accidentally  discovered  that  large 
quantities  of  the  electric  fluid  might  be  collected  by 
means  of  what  is  called  the  Leyden  jar,  and  that 
shocks  of  electricity,  giving  a  sensation  like  that  of  a 
sharp  blow,  might  be  imparted  from  it  to  the  human 
body.  The  first  announcement  of  these  Avonders 
excited  great  sensation  throughout  Europe,  and  the 
accounts  given  of  the  effects  of  the  electric  shock 
upon  those  who  first  experienced  it  are  exceedingly 
ludicrous,  and  show  how  strangely  the  imagination  is 
acted  upon  by  surprise,  mingled  with  a  certain  degree 
of  terror. 

Franklin's  mind  was  capable  of  being  directed  with 
good  effect  to  philosophical  speculations,  as  well  as  to 
practical  business,  and  notwithstanding  his  devotion 
to  the  latter,  he  still  found  time  for  scientific  studies. 


BENJAMIN    FRANKMN.  147 

The  extraordinary  phenomena  of  the  Leyden  jar 
attracted  his  attention,  and  he  set  himself  to  find  out 
the  reason  of  such  strange  effects.  ■  Out  of  his  specu- 
lations arose  the  ingenious  and  beautiful  theory  of 
the  negative  and  positive  condition  of  bodies  in  rela- 
tion to  electricity,  and  which  has  ever  been  received 
as  the  best,  because  the  simplest  and  most  complete, 
explanation  of  the  phenomena  that  has  yet  been 
proposed.  We  have  not  space  to  detail  his  curious 
and  ingenious  experiments,  and  can  only  notice  those 
which  resulted  in  proving  the  identity  of  lightning 
and  electricity. 

While  directing  his  attention  to  this  subject,  he 
began  to  suspect  that  this  identity  might  be  demon- 
strated by  artificial  means.  As  he  was  meditating 
upon  the  subject,  his  attention  was  one  day  drawn  by 
a  kite  which  a  boy  was  flying,  when  it  suddenly 
occurred  to  him  that  here  was  a  method  of  reaching 
the  clouds  preferable  to  any  other.  Accordingly,  he 
immediately  took  a  large  silk  handkerchief,  and, 
stretching  it  over  two  cross  sticks,  formed  in  this  man- 
ner his  simple  apparatus  for  drawing  down  the  light- 
ning from  its  cloud.  Soon  after,  seeing  a  thunder- 
storm approaching,  he  took  a  walk  into  a  field  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  city,  in  which  there  was  a  shed, 
communicating  his  intentions,  however,  to  no  one  but 
his  son,  whom  he  took  with  him  to  assist  him  in 
raising  the  kite.     This  was  in  June,  1752. 

The  kite  being  raised,  he  fastened  a  key  to  the 
lower  extremity  of  the  hempen  string,  and  then  insu- 
lating it  by  attaching  it  to  a  post  by  means  of  silk,  he 
placed  himself  under  the  shed,  and  waited  the  result. 


14S  BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN. 

For  some  time  no  signs  of  electricity  appeared.  A 
cloud,  apparently  charged  with  lightning,  had  even 
passed  over  them  without  producing  any  effect.  At 
length,  however,  just  as  Franklin  was  beginning  to 
despair,  he  observed  some  loose  threads  of  the  hempen 
string  rise  and  stand  erect,  exactly  as  if  they  had  been 
repelled  from  each  other  by  being  charged  with  elec- 
tricity. He  immediately  presented  his  knuckle  to 
the  key,  and,  to  his  inexpressible  delight,  drew  from 
it  the  well-known  electrical  spark.  He  said  after- 
wards that  his  emotion  was  so  great  at  this  comple- 
tion of  a  discovery  which  was  to  make  his  name 
immortal,  that  he  heaved  a  deep  sigh,  and  felt  that 
he  could  that  moment  have  willingly  died.  As  the 
rain  increased,  the  cord  became  a  better  conductor, 
and  the  key  gave  out  its  electricity  copiously.  Had 
the  hemp  been  thoroughly  wet,  the  bold  experimenter 
might  have  paid  for  his  discovery  with  his  life.  He 
afterwards  brought  down  the  lightning  into  his  house, 
by  means  of  an  insulated  iron  rod,  and  performed 
with  it,  at  his  leisvire,  all  the  experiments  that  could 
be  performed  with  electricity.  But  he  did  not  stop 
here.  His  active  and  practical  mind  Avas  not  satisfied 
even  with  this  splendid  discovery,  until  he  had  turned 
it  to  a  useful  end.  It  suggested  to  him,  as  is  well 
known,  the  idea  of  a  method  of  preserving  buildings 
from  lightning  by  what  is  called  the  lightning-rod. 
There  was  always  a  strong  tendency  in  his  philoso- 
phy to  these  practical  applications. 

Franklin's  discoveries  did  not  at  first  attract  much 
attention  in  England ;  and,  in  fact,  he  had  the  morti- 
fication   to    hear   that   his   paper,   on   the   similarity 


BENJAMIN    FKANKLIN.  149 

between  lightning  and  electricity,  had  been  ridiculed 
when  read  in  the  Royal  Society.  Having  fallen, 
however,  into  the  hands  of  the  naturalist,  BufTon, 
that  celebrated  man  translated  and  published  it  at 
Paris,  when  it  speedily  excited  the  astonishment  of 
all  Europe.  What  gave  his  book  the  more  sudden 
and  general  celebrity  was  the  success  of  one  of  its 
proposed  experiments  for  drawing  lightning  from  the 
clouds,  made  at  Marly,  This  engaged  the  public 
attention  everywhere.  The  "  Philadelphia  experi- 
ments," as  they  were  called,  were  performed  before 
the  king  and  court,  and  all  the  curious  of  Paris 
flocked  to  see  them.  Dr.  Wright,  an  English  physi- 
cian, being  at  Paris  at  the  time,  wrote  to  a  member 
of  the  Royal  Society  of  London  an  account  of  these 
wonders,  and  stating  the  astonishment  of  all  the 
learned  men  abroad  that  Franklin's  writings  had 
been  so  little  noticed  in  England.  The  society  were 
thus  in  a  manner  compelled  to  pay  more  attention  to 
what  they  had  previously  considered  as  chimerical 
speculation,  "  and  soon,"  says  Franklin,  "  made  me 
more  than  amends  for  the  slight  with  which  they 
had  before  treated  me.  Without  my  having  made 
any  application  for  that  honor,  they  chose  me  a  mem- 
ber, and  voted  that  I  should  be  excused  the  usual 
payments,  which  would  have  amounted  to  twenty-five 
guineas,  and  ever  since  have  given  me  their  Trans- 
actions gratis.  They  also  presented  me  Avith  the 
gold  medal  of  Sir  Godfrey  Copley,  for  the  year  1753, 
the  delivery  of  which  was  accompanied  with  a  very 
handsome  speech  of  the  president,  Lord  Macclesfield, 
wnerein  I  was  highly  honored." 
13* 


150  BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN. 

Although  the  numerous  important  public  duties 
which  Franklin  was  called  upon  latterly  to  discharge, 
chiefly  engrossed  his  time,  he  still  returned  to  his 
philosophical  studies  on  every  occasion  that  offered, 
and  made  several  curious  and  interesting  discoveries. 
Amongst  others,  was  that  of  producing  so  intense  a 
degree  of  cold,  by  the  evaporation  of  ether  in  the 
exhausted  receiver  of  an  air-pum.p,  as  to  convert 
water  into  ice.  This  discovery  he  applied  to  the 
solution  of  a  number  of  phenomena,  particularly  a 
singular  fact,  which  philosophers  had  previously 
labored  in  vain  to  account  for,  namely,  that  the  tem- 
perature of  the  human  body,  when  in  health,  never 
exceeds  ninety-six  degrees  of  Fahrenheit's  thermom- 
eter, though  the  atmosphere  which  surrounds  it  may 
be  heated  to  a  much  greater  degree.  This  he  attrib- 
uted to  the  increased  perspiration,  and  consequent 
evaporation,  produced  by  the  heat. 

The  tone  produced  by  rubbing  the  brim  of  a  drink- 
ing glass  with  a  wet  finger,  had  been  generally 
known.  This  subsequently  gave  rise  to  the  art  of 
playing  tunes  on  a  variety  of  glasses  of  different 
sizes,  now  called  "  musical  glasses,"  The  sweetness 
of  the  tones  induced  Franklin  to  make  a  variety  of 
experiments ;  and  he  at  length  formed  that  elegan* 
instrument  which  he  called  the  Armonica. 

Perhaps  no  philosopher  ever  stood  upon  a  prouder 
eminence  in  the  world's  ej^e,  than  did  Franklin  during 
the  latter  half  of  his  life.  The  obscurity  of  his  origin 
served  but  to  make  his  elevation  the  more  conspicu- 
ous, and  honors  were  showered  upon  him  from  all 
parts  of  the  civilized  world.     When  he  afterwards 


BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN.  151 

visited  Europe,  he  was  received  with  the  strongest 
testimonies  of  respect  from  men  of  science  and  dis- 
tinction. At  Paris,  Louis  XV.  honored  him  with 
especial  marks  of  favor.  He  received  the  degree  of 
Doctor  of  Laws  from  the  universities  of  St.  Andrews, 
Edinburgh  and  Oxford,  and  he  was  elected  a  member 
of  almost  every  learned  society  throughout  Europe. 
Such  was  the  homage  rendered  for  his  philosophical 
discoveries,  yet  we  suspect  that  the  simple  maxims 
of  Poor  Richard  have  done  infinitely  more  to  benefit 
mankind  than  have  these  brilliant  exploits  in  sci- 
ence. 

We  must  now  return  to  Franklin's  political  career. 
We  have  before  mentioned  that  he  was  elected  a 
member  of  the  general  assembly  of  Pennsylvania,  in 
1747.  Warm  disputes  at  this  time  subsisted  between 
the  assembly  and  the  proprietaries,  each  contending 
for  what  they  esteemed  their  just  rights.  Frank- 
lin, a  friend  to  the  interests  of  the  many  from  his 
infancy,  speedily  distinguished  himself  as  a  steady 
opponent  of  the  claims  of  the  proprietaries,  and  he 
was  soon  looked  up  to  as  the  head  of  the  opposition. 
His  influence  with  the  assembly  was  said  to  be  very 
great.  This  arose  not  from  any  superior  powers  of 
elocution ;  he  spoke  but  seldom,  and  he  never  was 
known  to  make  anything  like  an  elaborate  harangue. 
"  His  speeches,"  says  his  intimate  friend,  the  late 
Dr.  Stuber,  of  Philadelphia,  "  frequently  consisted  of 
but  a  single  sentence,  or  of  a  well-told  story,  the 
moral  of  which  was  always  obviously  to  the  point. 
He  never  attempted  the  flowery  fields  of  oratory. 
His  manner  was  plain  and  mild ;  his  style  of  speak- 


152  BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN. 

ing  was  like  that  of  his  writings,  simple,  unadorned, 
and  remarkably  concise.  With  this  plain  manner, 
and  his  penetrating,  solid  judgment,  he  was  able  to 
confound  the  most  eloquent  and  subtle  of  his  adver- 
saries, to  confirm  the  opinion  of  his  friends,  and  to 
make  converts  of  the  unprejudiced  Avho  had  opposed 
him.  With  a  single  observation,  he  often  rendered 
of  no  avail  an  elegant  and  lengthy  discourse,  and 
determined  the  fate  of  a  question  of  importance." 

In  1751,  Franklin  was  appointed  deputy  postmas- 
ter-general. In  1757,  he  went  to  England  as  agent 
of  the  proprietaries  of  Pennsylvania.  He  soon  after 
received  the  additional  appointment  of  agent  of  the 
provinces  of  Massachusetts,  Maryland  and  Georgia. 
He  returned  to  America  in  1762,  and  would  have 
gladly  rested  in  the  bosom  of  domestic  life,  but,  in 
1764,  he  was  again  sent  to  England,  not  as  a  colo- 
nial agent,  but  as  the  representative  of  America. 
Thirty-nine  years  had  now  elapsed  since  his  first 
landing  on  the  British  shore  as  a  destitute  and  for- 
lorn mechanic. 

Great  Britain  had  already  announced  the  project 
of  taxing  her  colonies  here,  and  Dr.  Franklin  Avas  the 
bearer  of  a  remonstrance  from  the  province  of  Penn- 
sylvania against  it.  This  he  presented  before  the 
passage  of  the  odious  stamp  act.  During  the  contin- 
uance of  that  measvire,  he  opposed  it  with  consum- 
mate ability  and  great  success.  When  the  repeal 
was  about  to  be  attempted  in  the  house  of  commons, 
he  was  summo^ied  to  appear  before  that  body.  On 
the  3d  February,  1776,  he  was  accordingly  examined. 
The  readiness  with  which  he  replied  to  the  inriuiries, 


BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN.  153 

the  vast  information  he  displayed,  together  with  the 
firmness,  point  and  simplicity  of  his  manner,  extorted 
admiration  even  from  his  enemies.  The  effect  of  his 
evidence  was  irresistible,  and  the  repeal  soon  fol- 
lowed. 

Dr.  Franklin  continued  to  resist  the  various  acts 
of  Great  Britain,  which  were  calculated  to  excite  the 
indignation  and  resistance  of  the  colonies.  This, 
however,  was  unavailing,  and  he  clearly  foresaw  the 
tempest  that  was  speedily  to  follow.  In  1772,  by 
some  means  which  he  would  never  explain,  he  ob- 
tained possession  of  certain  letters  Avritten  by  the 
royal  governor,  Hutchinson,  and  other  public  func- 
tionaries, to  the  home  government,  recommending  the 
adoption  of  the  most  rigorous  measures,  and  inveigh- 
ing in  the  severest  terms  against  the  leading  charac- 
ters of  the  colony.  He  instantly  transmitted  them 
back  to  the  assembly  at  Massachusetts,  who,  enraged 
at  the  conduct  of  the  governor,  sent  a  petition  to  the 
king,  praying  for  his  dismissal,  and  Franklin  was 
appointed  to  present  it.  As  might  have  been  expected, 
the  petition  was  dismissed  as  "  frivolous  and  vexa- 
tious," and  Franklin  incurred  so  much  obloquy  for 
his  interception  of  the  governor's  despatches,  that  he 
was  dismissed  from  his  office  of  deputy  postmaster- 
general. 

Franklin  still  continued  in  England,  devoting  him- 
self with  the  greatest  vigor  and  perseverance  to  the 
reconciliation  of  the  mother  country  alid  the  colonies. 
Though  he  was  denounced  by  the  enemies  of  Amer- 
ica, in  no  measured  terms,  yet  he  was  treated  with 
great  respect  and  consideration  by  men  of  science 


154  BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN. 

and  some  of  the  leading  statesmen  of  the  day.  On 
one  occasion,  when  he  was  standing  behind  the  bar 
in  the  house  of  lords,  Lord  Chatham  spoke  of  him  as 
"  one  whom  Europe  held  in  high  estimation  for  his 
knowledge  and  Avisdom ;  who  was  an  honor,  not  to 
the  English  nation  alone,  but  to  human  nature." 

Finding  his  efforts,  in  behalf  of  his  country,  una- 
vailing, and  being  informed  that  it  was  the  intention 
of  the  ministers  to  arrest  him,  he  took  his  departure, 
and  reached  America  in  1775. 

He  Avas  enthusiastically  received,  and  the  day  after 
his  arrival  was  elected  a  member  of  congress  by  the 
legislature  of  Pennsylvania.  He  served  on  many  of 
the  most  arduous  of  the  committees  of  that  body,  par- 
ticularly as  a  member  of  the  committee  of  safety  and 
that  of  foreign  correspondence,  where  he  exerted  all 
his  influence  in  favor  of  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence, of  which  instrument  he  was  one  of  the 
signers. 

It  being  of  the  utmost  importance  to  obtain  assist- 
ance from  abroad  in  behalf  of  the  infant  republic, 
Franklin  was  sent  to  France  in  1776,  as  commis- 
sioner plenipotentiary  to  that  court.  He  soon  obtained 
the  confidence  of  the  minister,  Count  de  Vergennes, 
but  the  government,  seeming  to  have  little  confidence 
in  the  success  of  the  colonies,  hesitated  to  espouse 
their  cause.  The  news  of  the  capture  of  Burgoyne, 
in  1777,  brightened  the  prospects  of  our  country,  and 
France  decided  to  give  us  her  cooperation.  Frank- 
lin had  the  happiness  to  sign  the  first  treaty  between 
the  United  States  and  a  foreign  power,  on  the  6th 
February,  1778. 


BENJAJIIN   FRANKLIN.  155 

Franklin  was  now  in  high  favor  at  court,  and  his 
society  was  sought  not  only  by  statesmen  and  men  of 
science,  but  in  the  fashionable  circles.  Under  the 
influence  of  the  queen,  Maria  Antoinette,  the  tone  of 
society,  in  Paris,  had  become  frivolous  in  the  extreme. 
To  dress,  to  act,  to  sing,  to  dance,  seemed  the  sole 
business  of  life  among  the  higher  classes.  To  make 
complimentary  speeches  and  extemporary  verses  was 
the  highest  and  most  desired  stretch  of  intellect  among 
the  wits  of  the  day. 

The  appearance  of  Franklin  among  these  gay  cir- 
cles— the  observed  of  all  observers,  smiled  upon  by  the 
king  and  queen,  favored  by  the  minister,  honored  by 
the  learned,  courted  by  the  flush  and  the  fair — produced 
the  most  extraordinary  revolution.  He  appeared  in 
society  in  a  plain  dress,  resembling  that  of  the  Quakers. 
The  contrast  between  this  and  the  gorgeous  attire  of 
all  around  him,  struck  the  imagination  of  the  giddy 
Parisians.  The  change  which  followed  in  costume 
was  hardly  less  remarkable  than  the  political  convul- 
sions which  took  place  some  twenty  years  after.  The 
enormous  head-dresses  and  cumbrous  hoops  of  the 
ladies  gave  way  at  once,  and  they  appeared  in  the 
most  simple  attire.  The  gold  lace,  embroidery,  and 
powdered  curls,  which  had  been  the  pride  of  the 
Parisian  beaux,  were  discarded,  and  the  fine  gentle- 
men appeared  with  their  hair  cut  straight,  and  in  plain 
brown  coats,  like  that  of  the  sober  American. 

There  are  numerous  anecdotes  which  illustrate  the 
high  consideration  in  which  Franklin  was  held  at 
Paris.  At  an  evening  party,  a  fashionable  lady  ex- 
claimed to  si  gentleman  near,  "  Pray,  who  is  that  extra- 


156  BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN. 

ordinary  brown-coated  man  ? "  "  Softly,  madam," 
was  the  reply ;  "  that 's  the  famous  American,  who 
bottles  up  thunder  and  lightning!"  At  a  splendid 
entertainment  given  to  the  American  deputies,  the 
Countess  de  Polignac,  one  of  the  most  distinguished 
of  the  court  belles,  advanced  to  Dr.  Franklin,  and 
placed  a  crown  of  laurel  on  his  head.  In  compliment 
to  his  maxims,  published  under  the  title  of  "  Poor 
Richard,"  a  vessel  fitted  out  in  France — that  in  which 
Paul  Jones  achieved  his  most  wonderful  exploits — 
was  named  Bon  Homme  Richard. 

When  the  British  ministry,  at  length,  saw  the  neces- 
sity of  recognising  the  independence  of  the  states,  the 
definitive  treaty  to  that  effect  was  signed  at  Paris,  on 
the  3d  September,  17S3,  by  Dr.  Franklin,  Mr.  Adams, 
and  Mr.  Jay,  for  the  states,  on  the  one  hand ;  and  by 
Mr.  David  Hartley,  for  Great  Britain,  on  the  other. 
Franklin  continued  at  Paris  for  the  two  following 
years  ;  but,  at  last,  by  his  own  urgent  request,  he  was 
recalled.  Shortly  after  his  return,  he  was  elected 
president  of  the  supreme  executive  council  in  Penn- 
sylvania, and  lent  all  his  energies  to  the  consoli- 
dation of  the  infant  government.  Age  and  infirmities, 
however,  claimed  their  usual  ascendancy,  and,  in 
17SS,  he  retired  wholly  from  public  life. 

Franklin's  last  public  act — and  it  was  one  in  beau- 
tiful accordance  with  the  whole  tenor  of  his  life — was 
putting  his  signature,  as  president  of  the  Anti-Slavery 
Society,  to  a  memorial  presented  to  the  House  of  Rep- 
resentatives, praying  them  to  exert  the  full  powers 
entrusted  to  them  to  discourage  the  revolting  traffic  in 
the  human  species.     This  was  on  the  12th  of  Febru- 


BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN.  157 

ary,  1789.  From  this  day  forward,  he  was  confined 
ahnost  constantly  to  his  bed  with  the  stone,  from  which 
he  suffered  the  most  excruciating-  agony.  Yet  when 
his  paroxysms  of  pain  drew  forth,  as  they  did  occa- 
sionally, an  irrepressible  groan,  he  would  observe, 
that  he  was  afraid  he  did  not  bear  his  sufierings  as  he 
ought — acknowledged  his  grateful  sense  of  the  many 
blessings  he  had  received  from  the  Supreme  Being, 
who  had  raised  him  from  small  and  low  beginnings 
to  such  high  rank  and  consideration  among  men;  and 
made  no  doubt  but  his  present  afflictions  Avere  kindly 
intended  to  wean  him  from  a  world  in  which  he  was  no 
longer  fit  to  act  the  part  assigned  him.  He  afterwards 
sank  into  a  calm  lethargic  state ;  and,  on  the  17th  of 
April,  1790,  about  eleven  o'clock  at  night,  he  expired, 
in  his  eighty-fifth  year.  He  left  two  children — a  son 
and  daughter. 

In  looking  back  on  Franklin's  career,  of  which  we 
have  given  a  very  imperfect  sketch,  it  is  evident  that 
the  principal  feature  in  his  character  was  ivorldly  pru- 
dence— not  in  a  narrow  and  selfish  acceptation  of  the 
term,  but  that  prudence,  founded  on  true  wisdom, 
which  dictates  the  practice  of  honesty,  industry,  fru- 
gality, temperance — in  short,  all  those  qualities  which 
may  be  classed  under  the  name  of  "moral  virtues," 
as  being  the  only  certain  means  of  obtaining  distinc- 
tion, respect,  independence,  and  mental  cheerfulness. 
There  is  no  other  writer  who  inculcates  lessons  of 
practical  wisdom  in  a  more  agreeable  and  popuAr 
manner,  and  we  much  regret  that  our  limits  will  not 
permit  us  to  give  extracts  illustrative  of  this  quality. 
His  whole  conduct  and  writings,  indeed,  present  the 
VI.— 14 


15S  BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN. 

somewhat  singular  union  of  considerable  genius  with 
practical  good  sense,  and  of  great  shrewdness  with  the 
strictest  integrity  of  principle.  The  greatest  worldly 
honors — and  few  have  attained  higher — could  not  for 
a  moment  make  him  forget  or  deviate  from  the  prin- 
ciples with  which  he  started  in  life. 

We  must  not  deny  that  a  careful  examination  of 
Franklin's  history  will  display  some  unworthy  acts, 
and  certain  defects  of  character ;  yet  his  life,  on  the 
whole,  has  proved  to  be  one  of  the  most  useful  and 
effective  among  the  annals  of  our  race.  His  scien- 
tific discoveries,  his  useful  inventions,  his  political 
services — vakiable  as  they  were — we  do  not  reckon 
as  his  highest  benefactions  to  his  country  or  man- 
kind. He  has  contributed  more  than  any  other 
individual  in  modern  times,  to  teach  the  working 
classes  to  feel  their  power,  and  to  assert  their  rights. 
He  has  taught  them,  as  well  by  precept  as  example, 
the  certain  steps  by  which  they  can  ascend  in  the 
scale  of  society ;  and  hundreds  of  thousands  have 
been  thus  led  from  stations  of  poverty  and  ignorance, 
to  the  most  elevated  positions  in  society.  He  has 
done  much  to  level  down  the  distinctions  in  society; 
to  remove  the  artificial  barriers  which  pride  and 
vanity  set  up  to  provoke  envy  and  strife.  He  has 
made  the  humble  to  feel  their  strength,  and  taught  the 
mighty  to  respect  the  rights  which  that  strength  can 
vindicate.  His  spirit  has  breathed  over  the  civilized 
world,  everywhere  tending  to  inculcate  the  principle 
of  equal  rights.  Nor  is  this  all.  He  has  put  in  cir- 
culation a  thousand  homespun  truths — stamped  and 
~eady  for  change  at  the  turnpike  gates  of  life's  every- 


BENJAMIN    FKANICLIN. 


159 


day  journey — all  teaching  economy,  and  industry, 
and  thrift.  If  the  wealth,  comfort,  happiness,  and 
prosperity,  created  by  Franklin's  maxims  and  Frank- 
lin's example, — not  in  these  states  only,  but  in  Euro- 
pean countries, — could  be  told,  it  would  furnish  a 
splendid  monument  to  attest  his  benefactions  to  his 
country  and  his  kind. 


LA  FAYETTE.^ 

Gilbert  Mottier  de  La  Fayette  was  born  at 
the  castle  of  Chavaniac,  in  Auvergne,  on  the  Gth  of 
September,  1757.  His  family  was  one  of  the  most 
ancient  in  the  country,  and  of  the  highest  rank  in  the 
French  nobility.  As  far  back  as  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury, one  of  his  ancestors,  a  marshal  of  France,  was 

*"\Ve  have  taken  the.  greater  part  of  this  article  from  the 
splendid  Eulogy  of  La  Fayette,  delivered  by  Edward  Everett, 
at  Fnneuil  Hall,  at  the  request  of  the  young  men  of  Boston, 
September  6,  1831  To  the  original  we  refer  the  reader  for  the 
best  sketch  of  the  life  and  character  of  La  Fayette  that  has  ever 
appeared. 


LA  FAYETTE.  161 

distinguished  for  his  military  achievements ;  his  uncle 
fell  in  the  wars  of  Italy,  in  the  middle  of  the  last  cen- 
tury ;  and  his  father  lost  his  life  in  the  seven  years' 
war  at  the  battle  of  Minden. 

His  mother  died  soon  after,  and  he  was  thus  left 
an  orphan  at  an  early  age,  the  heir  of  an  immense 
estate,  and  exposed  to  all  the  dangers  incident  to  youth, 
rank,  and  fortune,  in  the  gayest  and  most  luxurious 
city  in  the  world,  at  the  period  of  its  greatest  cor- 
ruption. Yet  he  escaped  unhurt.  Having  completed 
the  usual  academical  course  at  the  college  of  Du  Pies- 
sis,  in  Paris,  he  married,  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  the 
daughter  of  the  Duke  D'A^en,  of  the  family  of  Noail- 
les,  somewhat  younger  than  himself,  and  at  all  times 
the  noble  encourager  of  his  virtues,  the  heroic  partner 
of  his  sufferings,  the  worthy  sharer  of  his  great  name 
and  of  his  honorable  grave. 

The  family  to  which  he  thus  became  allied  was 
then,  and  for  fifty  years  had  been,  in  the  highest  favor 
at  the  French  court.  Himself  the  youthful  heir  of 
one  of  the  oldest  and  richest  houses  in  France,  the 
path  of  advancement  was  open  before  him.  He  was 
offered  a  brilliant  place  in  the  royal  household.  At 
an  age  and  in  a  situation  most  likely  to  be  caught  by 
the  attraction,  he  declined  the  proffered  distinction, 
impatient  of  the  attendance  at  court  which  it  required. 
He  felt,  from  his  earliest  years,  that  he  was  not  born 
to  loiter  in  an  ante-chamber.  The  sentiment  of  lib- 
erty was  already  awakened  in  his  bosom.  Having, 
while  yet  at  college,  been  required,  as  an  exercise  in 
composition,  to  describe  the  well-trained  charger, 
obedient  even  to  the  shadow  of  the  whip — he  repre- 
K  14* 


162  LA  FAYETTE. 

sented  the  noble  animal,  on  the  contrary,  as  rearing  at 
the  sight  of  it,  and  throwing  his  rider.  With  this 
feeling,  the  profession  of  arms  was,  of  course,  the 
most  congenial  to  him ;  and  was,  in  fact,  Avith  the 
exception  of  that  of  courtier,  the  only  one  open  to  a 
young  French  nobleman  before  the  revolution. 

In  the  summer  of  1776,  and  just  after  the  Ameri- 
can declaration  of  independence,  La  Fayette,  not  then 
nineteen  years  old,  was  stationed  at  Metz,  a  garri- 
soned town  on  the  road  from  Paris  to  the  German 
frontier,  with  the  regiment  to  which  he  was  attached, 
as  a  captain  of  dragoons.  The  Duke  of  Gloucester, 
the  brother  of  the  king  of  England,  happened  to  be  on 
a  visit  to  Metz,  and  a  dinner  was  given  to  him  by  the 
commandant  of  the  garrison.  La  Fayette  was  invited, 
with  other  officers,  to  the  entertainment.  Despatches 
had  just  been  received  by  the  duke,  from  England, 
relating  to  American  affairs — the  resistance  of  the 
colonists,  and  the  strong  measures  adopted  by  the 
ministers  to  crush  the  rebellion.  Among  the  details 
stated  by  the  Duke  of  Gloucester,  was  the  extraordi- 
nary fact,  that  these  remote,  scattered,  and  unpro- 
tected settlers  of  the  wilderness  had  solemnly  declared 
themselves  an  Independent  People.  These  words 
decided  the  fortunes  of  the  enthusiastic  listener ;  and 
not  more  distinctly  was  the  great  declaration  a  char- 
ter of  political  liberty  to  the  rising  states,  than  it  was 
a  commission  to  their  youthful  champion  to  devote 
his  life  to  the  sacred  cause. 

The  details  which  he  heard  were  new  to  him. 
The  American  contest  was  knoAvn  to  him  before,  but 
only  as  a  rebellion  in  a  remote  transatlantic  colony. 


LA  FAYETTE.  163 

He  now,  with  a  promptness  of  perception,  which,  oven 
at  this  distance  of  time,  strikes  us  as  very  remarkable, 
addressed  a  muUitude  of  inquiries  to  the  Duke  of 
Gloucester,  on  the  subject  of  the  contest.  His  imagi- 
nation was  kindled  at  the  idea  of  an  oppressed  people 
struggling  for  political  liberty.  His  heart  was  warmed 
with  the  possibility  of  drawing  his  sword  in  a  good 
cause.  Before  he  left  the  table,  his  course  was  men- 
tally resolved  upon ;  and  the  brother  of  the  king  of 
England,  unconsciously  no  doubt,  had  the  singular 
fortune  to  enlist,  from  the  French  court  and  the 
French  army,  this  gallant  and  fortunate  champion  in 
the  then  unpromising  cause  of  the  colonial  congress. 

He  immediately  repaired  to  Paris  to  make  further 
inquiries  and  arrangements,  towards  the  execution  of 
his  great  plan.  He  confided  it  to  two  young  friends — 
officers  like  himself — the  Count  Segur  and  Viscount 
Noailles,  and  proposed  to  them  to  join  him.  They 
shared  his  enthusiasm,  and  determined  to  accompany 
him,  but,  on  consulting  their  families,  they  were 
refused  permission.  But  they  faithfully  kept  La 
Fayette's  secret.  Happily  for  his  purpose,  he  was 
an  orphan,  independent  of  control,  and  was  master  of 
his  o^vn  fortune,  amounting  to  nearly  forty  thousand 
dollars  per  annum. 

He  next  opened  his  heart  to  the  Count  de  Broglie, 
a  marshal  in  the  French  army.  To  the  experienced 
warrior,  accustomed  to  the  regular  campaigns  of  Euro- 
pean service,  the  project  seemed  rash  and  quixotic, 
and  one  that  he  could  not  countenance.  La  Fayette 
begged  the  count  at  least  not  to  betray  him,  as  he 
was  resolved,  notwithstanding  his  disapproval,  to  go  to 


164  LA   FAV'ETTE. 

America.  This  the  count  promised,  adding,  "  I  saw 
your  uncle  fall  in  Italy;  Avitnessed  your  father's  death 
at  the  battle  of  Minden ;  and  I  will  not  be  accessory 
to  the  ruin  of  the  only  remaining  branch  of  the  fam- 
ily." He  then  used  all  the  powers  of  argument  which 
his  age  and  experience  suggested  to  dissuade  La  Fay- 
ette from  the  enterprise ;  but  in  vain.  Finding  his 
determination  unalterable,  he  made  him  acquainted 
with  the  Baron  de  Kalb,  who,  the  count  knew,  was 
about  to  embark  for  America, — an  officer  of  experi- 
ence and  merit,  who,  as  is  well  known,  fell  at  the 
battle  of  Camden. 

The  Baron  de  Kalb  introduced  La  Fayette  to  Silas 
Deane,  then  agent  of  the  United  States  in  France, 
Avho  explained  to  him  the  state  of  affairs  in  America, 
and  encouraged  him  in  his  project.  Deane  was  but 
imperfectly  acquainted  with  the  French  language, 
and  was  of  manners  rather  repulsive.  A  less  enthusi- 
astic temper  than  that  of  La  Fayette  might  have  been 
somewhat  chilled  by  the  style  of  his  intercourse. 
Deane  had  not,  as  yet,  been  acknowledged  in  any  pub- 
lic capacity,  and  was  beset  by  the  spies  of  the  British 
ambassador.  For  these  reasons,  it  was  judged  expe- 
dient that  the  visits  of  La  Fayette  should  not  be 
repeated,  and  their  further  negotiations  were  con- 
ducted through  the  intervention  of  Mr.  Carmichael, 
an  American  gentleman,  at  that  time  in  Paris.  The 
arrangement  was  at  length  concluded,  in  virtue  of 
which  Deane  took  upon  himself,  without  authority, 
but  by  a  happy  exercise  of  discretion,  to  engage  La 
Fayette  to  enter  the  American  service,  with  the  rank 
of  major-general.      A  vessel  was  about   to   be  de- 


LA  FAYETTE. 


165 


spatclied  with  arms  and  other  supplies  for  the  Ameri- 
can ariTiy,  and  in  this  vessel  it  was  settled  that  he 
should  take  passage. 

At  this  juncture,  the  news  reached  France  of  the 
evacuation  of  New  York,  the  loss  of  Fort  "Washing- 
ton, the  calamitous  retreat  through  New  Jersey,  and 
the  other  disasters  of  the  campaign  of  1776.  The 
friends  of  America,  in  France,  were  in  despair.  The 
tidings,  bad  in  themselves,  were  greatly  exaggerated 
in  the  British  gazettes.  The  plan  of  sending  an 
armed  vessel  with  munitions  was  abandoned.  The 
cause,  always  doubtful,  was  now  pronounced  despe- 
rate ;  and  La  Fayette  was  urged  by  all  who  were 
privy  to  his  project,  to  give  up  an  enterprise  so  wild 
and  hopeless.  Even  our  commissioners, — Deane, 
Franklin,  and  Arthur  Lee, — told  him  they  could  not 
in  conscience  urge  him  to  proceed.  His  answer  was, 
"  My  zeal  and  love  of  liberty  have  perhaps  hitherto 
been  the  prevailing  motive  with  me,  but  I  now  see  a 
chance  of  usefulness  which  I  had  not  anticipated. 
These  supplies,  I  know,  are  greatly  wanted  by  con- 
gress. I  have  money ;  I  will  purchase  a  vessel  to 
convey  them  to  America,  and  in  this  vessel  my  com- 
panions and  myself  will  take  passage." 

In  pursuance  of  the  generous  purpose  thus  con- 
ceived, the  secretary  of  the  Count  de  Broglie  was 
employed  by  La  Fayette  to  purchase  and  fit  out  a 
vessel  at  Bordeaux ;  and  while  these  preparations 
were  in  train,  with  a  view  of  diverting  suspicion  from 
his  movements,  and  passing  the  tedious  interval  of 
delay,  he  made  a  visit,  with  a  relative,  to  his  kinsman, 
the  Marquis  of  Noailles,  then  the  French  ambassador 


166  LA  FAYETTE. 

ill  London.  During  their  stay  in  Great  Britain 
they  were  treated  with  kindness  by  the  king-  and  per- 
sons of  rank  ;  but  having,  after  a  lapse  of  three  weeks, 
learned  that  his  vessel  was  ready  at  Bordeaux,  La 
Fayette  suddenly  returned  to  France.  His  visit  was 
of  service  to  the  youthful  adventurer,  in  furnishing 
him  an  opportunity  to  improve  himself  in  the  English 
language  ;  but,  beyond  this,  a  nice  sense  of  honor  for- 
bade him  from  making  use  of  the  opportunity  which 
it  afforded,  for  obtaining  military  information  that 
could  be  of  utility  to  the  American  army.  So  far  did 
he  carry  this  scruple,  that  he  declined  visiting  the 
naval  establishments  at  Portsmouth. 

On  his  return  to  France,  he  did  not  even  visit 
Paris ;  but  after  three  days  spent  at  Passy,  the  resi- 
dence of  Dr.  Franklin,  he  hastened  to  Bordeaux. 
Arriving  at  this  place,  he  found  that  his  vessel  was 
not  yet  ready ;  and  had  the  still  greater  mortification 
to  learn  that  the  spies  of  the  British  ambassador  had 
penetrated  his  designs,  and  made  them  known  to  the 
family  of  La  Fayette,  and  to  the  king,  from  whom  an 
order  for  his  arrest  was  daily  expected.  Unprepared 
as  his  ship  was,  he  instantly  sailed  in  her  to  Passage, 
the  nearest  port  in  Spain,  where  he  proposed  to  wait 
for  the  vessel's  papers.  Scarcely  had  he  arrived  in 
that  harbor,  when  he  was  encourjtered  by  two  officers, 
with  letters  from  his  family,  and  from  the  ministry, 
and  a  royal  order,  directing  him  to  join  his  father-in- 
law  at  Marseilles.  The  letter  from  the  ministers 
reprimanded  him  for  violating  his  oath  of  allegiance, 
and  failing  in  his  duty  to  his  king.  La  Fayette,  in 
some  of  his  letters  to  his  friends  about  court,  replied 


LA   FAYETTE.  167 

to  this  remark  that  the  ministry  might  chide  him  with 
failing  in  his  duty  to  the  king  when  they  learned  to 
discharge  theirs  to  the  people.  His  family  censured 
him  for  his  desertion  of  his  domestic  duties ;  but  his 
heroic  wife,  instead  of  joining  in  the  reproach,  shared 
his  enthusiasm  and  encouraged  his  enterprise. 

He  was  obliged  to  return  with  the  officers  to  Bor- 
deaux, and  report  himself  to  the  commandant.  While 
there,  and  engaged  in  communication  with  his  family 
and  the  court,  in  explanation  and  defence  of  his  con- 
duct, he  learned  from  a  friend  at  Paris  that  a  positive 
prohibition  of  his  departure  might  be  expected  from  the 
king.  No  farther  time  was  to  be  lost,  and  no  middle 
course  pursued.  He  feigned  a  willingness  to  yield  to 
the  wishes  of  his  family,  and  started  as  for  Marseilles, 
with  one  of  the  officers  who  was  to  accompany  him  to 
America.  Scarcely  had  they  left  the  city  of  Bor- 
deaux, when  he  assumed  the  dress  of  a  courier, 
mounted  a  horse  and  rode  forward  to  procure  relays. 
They  soon  quitted  the  road  to  Marseilles,  and  struck 
into  that  which  leads  to  Spain.  On  reaching  Ba- 
yonne,  they  were  detained  two  or  three  hours. 
While  the  companion  of  La  Fayette  was  employed 
in  some  important  commission  in  the  city,  he  himself 
lay  on  the  straw  in  the  stable.  At  St.  Jean  de  Luz, 
he  was  recognised  by  the  daughter  of  the  person  who 
kept  the  post  house ;  she  had  observed  him  a  few 
days  before,  as  he  passed  from  Spain  to  Bordeaux. 
Perceiving  that  he  was  discovered,  and  not  daring  to 
speak  to  her,  he  made  her  a  signal  to  keep  silence. 
She  complied  with  the  intimation ;  and  when,  shortly 
after  he  had  passed  on,  his  pursuers  came  up,  she 


16S  LA  FAYETTE. 

gave  thorn  an  answer  -which  baffled  their  penetration, 
and  enabled  La  Fayette  to  escape  into  Spain.  He 
was  instantly  on  board  his  ship  and  at  sea,  with 
eleven  officers  in  his  train,  and  accompanied  also  by 
the  Baron  De  Kalb. 

We  cannot  here  detail  the  various  casualties  and 
exposures  of  his  passage,  which  lasted  sixty  days. 
His  vessel  had  cleared  out  for  the  West  Indies,  but 
La  Fayette  directed  the  captain  to  steer  for  the  United 
States.  As  the  latter  had  a  large  pecuniary  adven- 
ture of  his  own  on  board,  he  declined  complying  with 
this  direction.  By  threats  to  remove  him  from  his 
command,  and  promises  to  indemnify  him  for  the  loss 
of  his  property,  should  they  be  captured,  La  Fayette 
prevailed  upon  the  captain  to  steer  his  course  for  the 
American  coast,  where  at  last  they  happily  arrived, 
having  narrowly  escaped  two  vessels  of  war,  which 
were  cruising  in  that  quarter.  They  made  the  coast 
near  Georgetown,  South  Carolina.  It  was  late  in 
the  day  before  they  could  approach  so  near  land  as  to 
leave  the  vessel. 

Anxious  to  tread  the  American  soil.  La  Fayette, 
with  some  of  his  fellow-officers,  entered  the  ship's 
boat  and  was  rowed  at  night-fall  to  shore.  A  distant 
light  guided  them  in  their  landing  and  advance  into 
the  country.  Arriving  near  the  house  from  which 
the  light  proceeded,  an  alarm  was  given  by  the  watch- 
dogs, and  they  were  mistaken  by  those  within  for  a 
marauding  party  from  the  enemy's  vessels,  hovering 
on  the  coast.  The  Baron  De  Kalb,  however,  had 
a  good  knowledge  of  the  English  language,  acquired 
on  a  previous  visit  to  America,  and  was  soon  able  to 


LA    FAYETTE.  169 

make  known  who  they  were,  and  what  was  their 
errand.  They  were  of  course  readily  admitted,  and 
cordially  welcomed.  The  house  in  which  they  found 
themselves,  was  that  of  Major  Hugcr,  a  citizen  of 
worth,  hospitality  and  patriotism,  by  whom  every 
good  office  was  performed  to  the  adventurous  stran- 
gers. He  provided  the  next  day  the  means  of  convey- 
ing La  Fayette  and  his  companions  to  Charleston, 
where  they  were  received  with  enthusiasm  by  the 
magistrates  and  people. 

As  soon  as  possible,  they  proceeded  by  land  to 
Philadelphia,  On  his  arrival  there,  with  the  eager- 
ness of  a  youth  anxious  to  be  employed  upon  his 
errand,  he  sent  his  letters  to  Mr.  Lowell,  who  was 
then  chairman  of  the  committee  of  foreign  relations. 
He  called  the  next  day  at  the  hall  of  congress ;  the 
letters  made  known  his  high  connections  and  his 
large  means  of  usefulness,  and,  without  an  hour's 
delay,  he  received  from  them  a  commission  of  major- 
general  in  the  American  army,  a  month  before  he  was 
twenty  years  of  age.  Thus,  at  this  early  and  inex- 
perienced age,  he  was  thought  worthy,  by  that  august 
body,  the  revolutionary  congress,  to  be  placed  in 
the  highest  rank  of  those  to  whom  the  conduct  of 
their  army  was  entrusted  in  this  hour  of  extremest 
peril ! 

Washington  Avas  at  head  quarters  when  La  Fayette 
reached  Philadelphia,  but  he  was  daily  expected  in 
the  city.  The  introduction  of  the  youthful  stranger 
to  the  man  on  whom  his  career  depended,  was  there- 
fore delayed  a  few  days.  It  took  place,  in  a  manner 
peculiarly  marked  with  the  circumspection  of  Wash- 

VL— 15 


170  LA    FAYETTE. 

ington,  at  a  dinner  party,  where  La  Fayette  wa^  among 
several  guests  of  consideration.  Washington  was  not 
uninformed  of^the  circumstances  connected  with  his 
arrival  in  the  country.  He  knew  what  benefits  it 
promised  the  cause,  if  his  character  and  talents  were 
adapted  to  the  course  he  had  so  boldly  struck  out; 
and  he  knew  also  how  much  it  was  to  be  feared  that 
the  very  qualities  which  had  prompted  him  to  embark 
in  it,  woiild  make  him  a  useless  and  even  a  danger- 
ous auxiliary.  We  may  Avell  suppose  that  the  pierc- 
mg  eye  of  the  father  of  his  country  was  not  idle 
during  the  repast.  But  that  searching  glance,  before 
which  pretence  or  fraud  never  stood  undetected,  was 
completely  satisfied.  When  they  were  about  to 
separate,  Washington  took  La  Fayette  aside — :Spoke  to 
him  with  kindness — paid  a  just  tribute  to  the  noble 
spirit  which  he  had  shown,  and  the  sacrifices  he  had 
made  in  the  American  cause;  invited  him  to  make 
the  head  quarters  of  the  army  his  home,  and  to  regard 
himself,  at  all  times,  as  one  of  the  family  of  the  com- 
mander-in-chief. 

It  was  on  the  31st  July,  1777,  that  La  Fayette 
received,  by  a  resolution  of  congress,  his  commission 
as  a  major-general  in  the  American  army.  Not  hav- 
ing at  first  a  separate  command,  he  attached  himself 
to  the  army  of  the  commander-in-chief,  as  a  volunteer. 
On  the  11th  of  the  following  September,  he  was  pres- 
ent at  the  unfortunate  battle  of  the  Brandywine.  He 
there  plunged,  Avith  a  rashness  pardonable  in  a  very 
youthful  commander,  into  the  hottest  of  the  battle, 
exposed  himself  to  all  its  dangers,  and  exhibited  a 
conspicuous  example  of  coolness  and  courage.   When 


LA   FAYETTE.  171 

the  troops  began  to  retreat  in  disorder,  he  threw  him- 
self from  his  horse,  entered  the  ranks,  and  endeavored 
to  rally  them.  While  thus  employed,  he  was  shot  by 
a  musket  ball  through  the  leg.  The  wound  was  not 
perceived  by  himself  till  he  was  told  by  his  aid  that 
the  blood  was  running  from  his  boot.  He  fell  in  with 
a  surgeon,  who  placed  a  slight  bandage  on  his  limb, 
with  which  he  rode  to  Chester.  Regardless  of  his  situ- 
ation, he  thought  only  of  rallying  the  troops,  who  were 
retreating  in  disorder  through  the  village ;  and  it  was 
not  till  this  duty  Avas  performed,  that  the  wound  was 
dressed.  It  was  two  months  before  it  was  sufficiently 
healed  to  enable  him  to  rejoin  the  army.  This  was 
the  first  battle  in  which  he  was  ever  engaged,  and 
such  was  his  entrance  into  the  active  service  of 
America. 

It  is  impossible  in  this  sketch  to  do  more  than 
glance  at  the  military  services  of  La  Fayette,  in  our 
revolution.  He  was  in  the  battle  of  Monmouth,  where 
he  displayed  the  utmost  courage  and  skill.  On  the 
arrival  of  the  French,  under  D'Estaing,  at  Rhode 
Island,  he  was  detached  to  join  them  with  the  army 
under  General  Sullivan.  He  was  here  exceedingly 
useful  in  securing  harmony  between  the  French  and 
American  forces.  In  1779,  he  embarked  for  France, 
that  country  being  now  in  a  state  of  declared  war 
with  England.  He  was  received  in  his  own  country 
with  enthusiasm  by  the  people,  and  with  favor  by  the 
court.  He  turned  to  the  advantage  of  America  the 
influence  he  had  acquired.  It  is  not  easy  to  over- 
estimate the  service  he  thus  performed  in  our  behalf , 


172  LA    FAYETTE. 

for  it  was  chiefly  through  liis  influsnce  tliat  the  effec- 
tive aid  of  France  was  secured. 

He  returned  to  America  in  1780,  and  was  at  Wesi 
Point  when  the  treachery  of  Arnold  was  discovered. 
The  following  winter  he  was  at  the  head  of  his 
division  in  Virginia.  During  the  summer  of  1781, 
he  conducted  the  campaign  in  that  state  Avith  a  vigor 
and  success  which  showed  that  he  possessed  the 
highest  qualities  of  a  general.  In  the  confidence 
inspired  by  his  powerful  army,  his  great  experience, 
•and  superior  abilities.  Lord  Cornwallis  declared  that 
"the  boy  should  not  escape."  He  did  escape,  how- 
ever; and  it  w^as  in  a  great  degree  owing  to  the 
admirable  conduct  of  the  youthful  general,  that  the 
British  commander  was  soon  after  obliged  to  lay 
down  his  arms,  and  surrender  his  whole  force  of  seven 
thousand  men  to  the  combined  armies.  In  the  memo- 
rable siege  of  Yorktown,  which  resulted  so  gloriously, 
La  Fayette  took  an  active  and  efficient  part,  and 
obtained  a  due  share  of  renown. 

Spain  had  now  shaken  off  her  indifference,  and 
concluded  to  join  with  France  in  the  attempt  to  hum- 
ble Great  Britain.  A  powerful  fleet  was  assembled 
at  Cadiz,  which,  with  twenty-four  thousand  troops, 
was  to  proceed  to  made  a  descent  on  the  island  of 
Jamaica,  and  then  strike  upon  the  British  army  at 
New  York.  La  Fayette  proceeded  to  Europe  to  aid 
the  expedition,  and,  at  the  head  of  eight  thousand 
men,  went  from  Brest  to  Cadiz.  But  these  mighty 
preparations  were  seen  by  Great  Britain,  and,  guided 
by  a  wise  prudence,  she  consented  to  peace. 

The  following  year,  1784,  La  Fayette  made  a  visit 


LA    FAYETTE.  173 

to  America,  where  he  was  received  with  every 
demonstration  of  joy.  After  his  return  to  France,  he 
visited  Germany,  whither  his  fame  had  preceded  him. 
He  was  entertained  with  distinction  hy  the  emperor 
of  Austria,  and  Frederick  the  Great  of  Prussia.  Orx 
his  return  to  Paris,  he  united  Avith  M.  de  Malsherbes, 
in  endeavoring  to  ameliorate  the  political  condition  of 
the  protestants.  In  concert  with  the  minister  of  the 
marine,  the  Marshal  de  Castries,  he  expended  a  large' 
sum,  from  his  private  fortune,  in  an  experiment 
towards  the  education  and  eventual  emancipation  of 
slaves.  To  this  end,  he  purchased  a  plantation  in 
Cayenne,  intending  to  give  freedom  to  the  laborers  as 
soon  as  they  should  be  in  a  condition  to  enjoy  it  with- 
out abuse.  In  the  progress  of  the  revolution,  this 
plantation,  with  the  other  estates  of  La  Fayette,  was 
confiscated,  and  the  slaves  sold  back  to  perpetuax 
bondage,  by  the  faction  which  was  drenching  France 
in  blood,  under  the  motto  of  liberty  and  equality. 

At  length,  a  mighty  crisis  was  at  hand ;  the  French 
revolution  began.  The  first  step  in  this  fearfu' 
drama  was  the  assembly  of  notables,  February  22, 
1787.  Its  last  convocation  had  been  in  1626,  under 
the  cardinal,  Richelieu.  It  was  now  convoked  by  the 
minister,  Colonne,  the  comptroller-general  of  the 
finances,  on  account  of  the  utter  impossibility,  with- 
out some  unusual  resources,  of  providing  for  the 
deficit  in  the  finances,  Avhich  had  for  the  preceding 
year  amounted  to  thirty-six  millions  of  dollars,  and 
was  estimnted  at  the  annual  average  of  twenty-eight 
millions  of  dollars.  This  assembly  consisted  of  one 
hundred  and  thirty-seven  persons,  of  whom  scarcely 
15* 


174  LA   FAYETTE. 

ten  were  in  any  sense  the  representatives  of  the 
people.  La  Fayette  was  of  course  a  distinguished 
member,  then  just  completing  his  thirtieth  year.  In 
an  assembly,  called  by  direction  of  the  king,  and  con- 
sisting almost  exclusively  of  the  high  aristocracy,  he 
stepped  forth  at  once,  the  champion  of  the  people.  It 
was  the  intention  of  the  government  to  confine  the 
action  of  the  assembly  to  the  discussion  of  the  state 
of  the  finances,  and  the  contrivance  of  means  to  repair 
their  disorder.  It  was  not  so  that  La  Fayette  under- 
stood his  commission.  He  rose  to  denounce  the 
abuses  of  the  government.  The  Count  d'Artois, 
since  Charles  X.,  the  brother  of  the  king,  attempted 
to  call  him  to  order,  as  acting  on  a  subject  not  before 
the  assembly.  "  We  are  summoned,"  said  La  Fayette, 
"  to  make  the  truth  known  to  his  majesty;  I  must  dis- 
charge my  duty." 

Accordingly,  after  an  animated  harangue  on  the 
abuses  of  the  government,  he  proposed  the  abolition 
of  private  arrests,  and  of  the  state  prisons,  in  which 
any  one  might  be  confined  on  the  warrant  of  the 
minister ;  the  restoration  of  protestants  to  the  equal 
privileges  of  citizenship,  and  the  convocation  of  the 
States  General,  or  representatives  of  the  people. 
"What,"  said  the  Count  d'Artois,  "do  you  demand 
the  States  General?"  "Yes,"  replied  La  Fayette, 
"  and  something  better  than  that!" 

The  assembly  of  notables  was  convoked  a  second 
time,  in  178S,  and  La  Fayette  was  again  found  in  his 
place  pleading  for  the  representation  of  tljp  people. 
As  a  member  of  the  provincial  assemblies  of  Auvergne 
and  Brittany,  he  also  took  the  lead  in  all  the  measures 


LA    FAYETTE.  175 

of  reform  that  were  proposed  by  those  patriotic 
bodies. 

But  palliatives  were  vain ;  it  became  impossible  to 
resist  the  impulse  of  public  opinion,  and  the  States 
General  Avere  convened.  This  body  assembled  at 
Versailles  on  the  third  of  May,  17S9.  Its  initiatory 
movements  were  concerted  by  La  Fayette  and  a  small 
circle  of  friends,  at  the  hotel  of  Mr.  Jefferson,  who 
calls  La  Fayette,  at  this  momentous  period  of  its  pro- 
gress, the  Atlas  of  the  revolution.  He  proposed,  and 
carried  through  the  assembly,  of  which  he  was  vice- 
president,  a  declaration  of  rights,  analogous  to  those 
contained  in  the  American  constitutions.  He  repeated 
the  demand  which  he  had  made  in  the  assembly  of 
notables,  for  the  suppression  of  lettres  de  cachet,  and 
the  admission  of  protestants  to  all  the  privileges  of 
citizens.  For  the  three  years  that  he  sustained  the 
command  of  the  National  Guard,  he  kept  the  peace 
of  the  capital,  rent  as  it  was  by  the  intrigues  of  parties, 
the  fury  of  a  debased  populace,  and  the  agitations  set 
on  foot  by  foreign  powers  ;  and  so  long  as  he  remained 
at  the  head  of  the  revolution,  with  much  to  condemn, 
and  more  to  lament,  and  which  no  one  resisted  more 
strenuously  than  La  Fayette,  it  was  a  work  of  just 
reform,  after  ages  of  frightful  corruption  and  abuse. 

When  matters  had  arrived  at  a  critical  point.  La 
Fayette  proposed  the  organization  of  the  National 
Guard  of  France.  The  ancient  colors  of  the  city  of 
Paris  were  blue  and  red  :  to  indicate  the  union  which 
he  wished  to  promote  between  a  king  governing  by  a 
constitution,  and  a  people  protected  by  the  laws,  he 
proposed  to  add  the  white,  the  royal  color  of  France; 


176  LA    FAYETTE. 

and  to  form  of  the  three,  the  new  ensign  of  the  natum 
"I  bring  you,  gentlemen,"  said  he,  "a  badge,  which 
will  go  round  the  world,  an  institution  at  once  civil 
and  military,  which  will  change  the  system  of 
European  tactics,  and  reduce  the  absolute  govern- 
ments to  the  alternative  of  being  conquered  if  they  do 
not  imitate  them,  and  overturned  if  they  do!"  The 
example  of  Paris  was  followed  in  the  provinces,  and 
the  National  Guard,  three  millions  seven  hundred 
thousand  strong,  was  organized  throughout  France, 
with  La  Fayette  at  its  head. 

On  the  5th  of  November,  17S9,  occurred  a  scene  of 
the  most  fearful  character.  It  was  rumored  at  Paris 
that  the  king  and  his  family,  at  Versailles,  had 
denounced  the  revolution.  At  this  moment,  the 
populace  were  suffering  from  famine,  and  being  told 
that  the  scarcity  was  caused  by  the  monarch,  the  cry 
arose,  "  To  Versailles  for  bread ! "  Like  a  flood  of 
boiling  lava,  the  tide  of  people  rolled  toward  Versailles 
The  king  and  the  royal  family  had  been  sacrificed  to 
the  fury  of  the  mob,  but  for  the  aid  of  La  Fayette. 
Placing  himself  at  the  head  of  a  detachment  of  troops, 
he  rushed  to  the  scene  of  action,  and  conducted  them 
in  safety  to  Paris. 

From  the  commencement  of  the  revolution,  La 
Fayette  refused  all  pecuniary  compensation  and  every 
unusual  appointment  or  trust.  Not  a  dignity  known 
to  the  ancient  monarchy,  or  suggested  by  the  disorder 
of  the  times,  but  was  tendered  to  him  and  refused. 
More  than  once  it  was  proposed  to  create  him  Field 
Marshal,  Grand  Constable,  Lieulenant-General  of  the 
Vinjrdom.      The  titles  of  dictator  and  commander-in- 


LA    FAYETTE.  177 

chief  of  the  armies  of  France  were  successively  pro- 
posed to  him,  but  in  vain.  Knowing  that  the  repre- 
sentatives of  the  great  federation  of  the  National 
Guards,  who  repaired  to  Paris  in  1790,  designed  to 
invest  him  with  the  formal  command  of  this  immense 
military  force,  he  hastened  a  passage  of  the  decree  of 
the  Assembly,  forbidding  any  person  to  exercise  the 
right  of  more  than  one  district ;  and  having,  at  the  close 
of  a  review,  been  conducted  to  the  national  assembly 
by  an  immense  and  enthusiastic  throng,  he  took  that 
occasion  to  mount  the  tribune  and  announce  the 
intention  of  returning  to  private  life  as  soon  as  the 
preparation  of  the  constitution  should  be  completed. 

On  the  recurrence  of  the  anniversary  of  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  Bastile,  on  the  14ih  of  July,  1790,  the 
labors  of  the  assembly,  in  the  formation  of  the  consti- 
tution, were  so  far  advanced,  that  it  was  deemed 
expedient,  by  a  grand  act  of  popular  ratification,  to 
give  the  sanction  of  France  to  the  principles  on  which 
it  was  founded.  The  place  assigned  for  the  ceremony 
Avas  the  Champs  de  Mars,  and  the  act  itself  was 
regarded  as  a  grand  act  of  federation,  by  which  the 
entire  population  of  France,  through  the  medium  of 
an  immense  representation,  engaged  themselves  to 
each  other,  by  solemn  oaths  and  imposing  rites,  to 
preserve  the  constitution,  the  monarchy,  and  the  law. 
In  front  of  the  military  school  at  Paris,  and  near  the 
river  Seine,  a  vast  plain  was  marked  out  for  the 
imposing  pageant.  Innumerable  laborers  were  em- 
ployed, and  still  greater  multitudes  of  volunteers 
cooperated  with  them,  in  preparing  a  vast  embank- 
ment, disposed  on    terraces,  and    covered  with  turf. 

L 


LA    FAYETTr,,  179 

The  entire  population  of  the  capital  and  its  environs, 
from  the  highest  to  the  lowest  condition  of  life,  of  both 
sexes,  and  of  every  profession,  was  engaged,  from  day 
to  day,  and  from  week  to  week,  in  carrying  on  the 
excavation.  The  academies  and  schools,  the  official 
bodies  of  every  description,  the  trades  and  the  profes- 
sions, and  every  class  and  division  of  the  people, 
repaired,  from  morning  to  night,  to  take  part  in  the 
work,  cheered  by  the  instruments  of  a  hundred  full 
orchestras,  and  animated  Avith  every  sport  and  game 
in  which  an  excited  and  cheerful  populace  gives  vent 
to  its  delight. 

It  was  the  perfect  saturnalia  of  liberty ;  the  meri- 
dian of  the  revolution,  when  its  great  and  unquestioned 
benefits  seemed  established  on  a  secure  basis,  with  as 
little  violence  and  bloodshed  as  could  be  reasonably 
expected  in  the  tumultuous  action  of  a  needy,  exas- 
perated and  triumphant  populace.  The  work  was  at 
length  completed,  the  terraces  were  raised,  and  300,000 
spectators  were  seated  in  the  vast  amphitheatre.  A 
gallery  was  elevated  in  front  of  the  military  school, 
and  in  its  centre  was  a  pavilion  above  the  throne.  In 
the  rear  of  the  pavilion  was  prepared  a  stage,  on  which 
the  queen,  the  dauphin,  and  the  royal  family  were 
seated.  The  deputed  members  of  the  federation, 
eleven  thousand  for  the  army  and  navy,  and  eighteen 
thousand  for  the  national  guard  of  France,  were 
arranged  in  front,  within  a  circle  formed  by  eighty- 
three  lances  planted  in  the  earth,  adorned  with  the 
standards  of  the  eighty-three  departments.  In  the 
midst  of  the  Champs  de  Mars,  the  centre  of  all  eyes, 
with  nothing  above  it  but  the  canopy  of  heaven,  arose 


180  LA    FAYETTE. 

a  magnificent  altar — the  loftiest  ever  raised  on  earth. 
Two  hundred  priests,  in  Avhite  surplices,  with  the  tri- 
color as  a  girdle,  were  disposed  on  the  steps  of  the 
altar,  on  whose  spacious  summit,  mass  Avas  performed 
by  the  bishop  of  Autun.  On  the  conclusion  of  the 
religious  ceremony,  the  members  of  the  federation 
and  the  deputies  of  the  assembly  advanced  to  the 
altar,  and  took  the  oath  of  fidelity  to  the  nation,  the 
constitution,  and  the  king.  The  king  himself  assumed 
the  name  and  rank  of  chief  of  the  federation,  and 
bestowed  the  title  of  its  major-general  on  La  Fayette. 
The  king  took  the  oath  on  his  throne,  but  La  Fayette, 
as  the  first  citizen  of  France,  advancing  to  the  altar, 
at  the  head  of  30,000  deputies,  and  in  the  name  of  the 
mighty  mass  of  the  national  guard,  amidst  the  plau- 
dits of  nearly  half  a  million  of  his  fellow-citizens,  in 
the  presence  of  all  that  was  most  illustrious  and  excel- 
lent in  the  kingdom,  whose  organized  military  power 
he  represented  as  their  chief,  took  the  oath  of  fidelity 
to  the  nation,  the  constitution,  and  the  king.  Of  all 
the  oaths  that  day  taken  by  the  master-spirits  of  the 
time,  his  was,  perhaps,  the  only  one  kept  inviolate. 

The  powers  of  Europe  at  length  roused  themselves 
to  action,  and  began  to  draw  their  threatening  armies 
around  France.  Armies  were  raised  by  the  latter 
country  to  meet  them.  La  Fayette  was  charged  v/ilh 
the  command  of  one  of  them.  At  his  head  quarters 
at  Sedan,  he  heard  of  the  bloody  tragedy  of  the  10th 
August,  and  the  imprisonment  of  the  royal  family. 
Agents  were  sent  to  the  departments ;  the  bloody 
scenes  of  Paris  were  enacted  there.  The  reign  of 
terror  was  now  established,  and  commissioners  were 


LA    FAYETTE.  181 

sent  to  the  army  to  arrest  the  generals,  and  La  Fayotte 
among  the  rest.  He  had  no  choice  but  to  deluge  the 
country  with  blood  by  resistance,  or  to  save  himself  by 
flight.  He  adopted  the  latter  course,  but  was  taken 
by  a  military  force  at  Liege,  and  being  dragged  from 
fortress  to  fortress,  was  at  last  lodged  in  the  dungeons 
of  Magdeburg.  From  this  place,  he  was  transferred 
to  the  emperor  of  Germany,  and  immured  in  the 
gloomy  castle  of  Olmutz,  in  Moravia. 

Cut  off  from  all  the  world,  and  closely  confined,  the 
health  of  the  noble  captain  gave  way,  and  it  was  not 
till  several  unsuccessful  efforts  had  been  made,  that  a 
mitigation  of  his  sufferings  was  allowed.  He  was 
now  permitted  to  take  the  air,  and  this  afforded  an 
opportunity  to  effect  his  liberation.  Dr.  Eric  Bollman, 
a  young  German  physician,  and  Mr.  Huger,  of  South 
Carolina,  engaged  in  this  chivalrous  enterprise ;  and, 
through  their  exertions,  he  made  his  escape.  But  a 
series  of  unfortunate  accidents  occurred,  and  he  was 
retaken  and  carried  back  to  Olmutz.  Bollman  and 
Huger  were  also  taken,  and  confined  in  close  prisons 
for  six  months,  when  they  were  set  at  liberty.  La 
Fayette  was  now  treated  with  double  severity ;  he 
was  stripped  of  every  comfort;  denied  decent  clothing; 
kept  in  a  dark  room ;  fed  on  bread  and  water ;  and 
told  that  he  was  soon  to  be  executed  on  the  scaffold. 

Nor  were  these  personal  sufferings  his  only  source 
of  anxiety.  No  tidings  were  permitted  to  reach  him 
from  his  wife  and  children ;  and  the  last  intelligence 
he  had  received  from  her  was,  that  she  was  confined 
in  prison  at  Paris.  There  she  had  been  thrown 
during  the  reign  of  terror.  Her  grandmother,  the 
VI.— 16 


182  LA    FAYETTE. 

Dutchess  de  Noailles,  her  mother,  the  Dutchess  de 
Argen,  and  her  sister,  the  Countess  de  Noailles,  had 
perished  in  one  ('ay  on  the  scaffold.  She  was  her- 
self reserved  for  the  like  fate ;  but  the  downfall  of 
Robespierre  preserved  her.  During  her  imprison- 
ment, her  great  anxiety  was  for  her  son,  George 
Washington  La  Fayette,  then  just  attaining  the  age 
at  which  he  was  liable  to  be  forced  by  the  conscription 
into  the  ranks  of  the  army.  The  friendly  assistance 
of  two  Americans  saved  him. 

Relieved  from  anxiety  on  account  of  her  son,  the 
wife  of  La  Fayette  was  resolved,  with  her  daughters, 
if  possible,  to  share  his  captivity.  Just  escaped  from 
the  dungeons  of  Robespierre,  she  hastened  to  plunge 
into  those  of  the  German  emperor.  This  admirable 
lady,  who,  in  the  morning  of  life,  had  sent  her  youth- 
ful hero  from  her  side,  to  fight  the  battles  of  constitu- 
tional freedom,  beneath  the  guidance  of  Washington, 
now  went  to  immure  herself  with  him  in  the  gloomy 
cells  of  Olmutz.  Born,  brought  up,  accustomed  to  all 
that  was  refined,  luxurious  and  elegant,  she  went  to 
shut  herself  up  in  the  poisonous  wards  of  his  dungeon ; 
to  partake  his  wretched  fare ;  to  share  his  daily 
repeated  insults  ;  to  breathe  an  atmosphere  so  noxious 
and  intolerable,  that  the  gaolers,  who  brought  them 
their  daily  food,  were  compelled  to  cover  their  faces 
as  they  entered  their  cells. 

Landing  at  Altona,  on  the  9th  September,  1795, 
she  proceeded,  with  an  American  passport,  under  the 
family  name  of  her  husband,  (Metier,)  to  Vienna. 
Having  arrived  in  that  city,  she  obtained,  through  the 
compassionate  offices  of  Count  Rosernberg,  an  inter- 


LA    FAYETTE.  183 

view  with  the  emperor.  Francis  II.  was  not  a  cruel 
man.  At  the  age  of  twenty-five,  he  had  not  been 
hardened  by  long  training  in  the  school  of  state  policy. 
He  was  a  husband  and  a  father.  The  heroic  wife  of 
La  Fayette,  with  her  daughters,  was  admitted  to  his 
presence.  She  demanded  only  to  share  her  husband's 
prison,  but  she  implored  the  emperor  to  restore  to 
liberty  the  father  of  her  children.  "  He  was,  indeed, 
sire,  a  general  in  the  armies  of  republican  America ; 
but  it  was  at  a  time  when  the  daughter  of  Maria 
Theresa  was  foremost  in  his  praise.  He  was,  indeed, 
a  leader  of  the  French  revolution,  but  not  in  its  ex- 
cesses, not  in  its  crimes ;  and  it  is  owing  to  him  alone 
that,  on  the  dreadful  5th  October,  Maria  Antoinette 
and  her  son  had  not  been  torn  in  pieces  by  the  blood- 
thirsty populace  of  Paris.  He  is  not  the  prisoner  of 
your  justice,  nor  your  arms,  but  was  thrown  by  mis- 
fortune into  your  power,  when  he  fled  before  the  same 
monsters  of  bloody  crime  who  brought  the  king  and 
queen  to  the  scaffold.  Three  of  my  family  have  per- 
ished on  the  same  scafTold,  my  aged  grandparent,  my 
mother,  and  my  sister.  Will  the  emperor  of  Germany 
close  the  dark  catalogue,  and  doom  my  husband  to  a 
dungeon  worse  than  death  ?  Restore  him,  sire — not 
to  his  army,  to  his  power,  to  his  influence — but  restore 
his  shattered  health,  his  ruined  fortunes — to  the  afTec- 
tions  of  his  fellow-citizens  in  America,  where  he  is 
content  to  live  and  close  his  career — to  his  wife  and 
children." 

The  emperor  was  a  humane  man.  He  heard,  rea- 
soned, hesitated;  told  her  "his  hands  were  tied"  by 
reasons  of  state,  and  permitted  her  to  shut  herself  up 


184  LA    FAYETTE. 

with  lier  daughters  in  the  cells  of  Ohnutz !  There 
her  health  failed ;  she  asked  to  be  permitted  to  pass  a 
month  at  Vienna,  to  recruit  it,  and  was  answered  that 
she  might  leave  the  prison  whenever  she  pleased,  but 
that  if  she  left  it,  she  could  never  return  there.  On 
this  condition,  she  rejects  the  indulgence  with  disdain; 
and  prepares  to  sink,  under  the  slow  poison  of  an 
infected  atmosphere,  by  her  husband's  side.  But  her 
brave  heart — fit  partner  for  a  hero's — bore  her  through 
the  trial,  though  the  hand  of  death  Avas  upon  her. 
She  prolonged  a  feeble  existence  for  ten  years  after 
their  release  from  captivity,  but  never  recovered  the 
effects  of  this  merciless  imprisonment. 

The  interposition  of  the  friends  of  La  Fayette,  in 
Europe  and  America,  to  obtain  his  release,  was  unsuc- 
cessful. On  the  floor  of  the  house  of  commons, 
General  Fitzpatrick,  on  the  16th  December,  1796, 
made  a  motion  in  his  behalf.  It  was  supported  by 
Colonel  Tarleton,  who  had  fought  against  La  Fayette 
in  America,  by  Wilberforce  and  Fox.  The  speech 
of  the  latter  is  one  of  the  most  admirable  specimens 
of  eloquence  ever  heard  in  a  deliberative  assembly. 
But  justice  remonstated,  humanity  pleaded  in  vain. 
General  Washington,  then  president  of  the  United 
States,  wrote  a  letter  to  the  emperor  of  Germany. 
What  would  not  the  emperor  afterwards  have  given  to 
have  had  the  wisdom  to  grant  the  liberty  of  La  Fayette 
to  the  entreaty  of  Washington  ?  But  an  advocate 
was  at  hand  who  would  not  be  refused.  The  "  Man 
of  Destiny  "  was  in  the  field.  The  Archduke  Charles 
was  matched  against  him  during  the  campaign  of 
1797. 


LA   FAYETTE.  185 

The  eagles  of  Bonaparte  flew  from  victory  to  vic- 
tory. The  archduke  displayed  against  him  all  the 
resources  of  the  old  school.  But  the  days  of  strategy 
were  over.  Bonaparte  stormed  upon  his  front,  threw 
his  army  across  deep  rivers,  burst  upon  his  rear,  and 
annihilated  the  astonished  duke  in  the  midst  of  his 
manosuvres.  He  fought  ten  pitched  battles  in  twenty 
days,  drove  the  Austrians  across  the  Julian  Alps, 
approached  within  eleven  days'  march  of  Vienna,  and 
then  granted  the  emperor,  just  preparing  for  flight 
into  the  recesses  of  Germany,  the  treaty  of  Campio 
Formio,  having  demanded,  in  the  preliminary  confer- 
ences of  Leoben,  the  release  of  La  Fayette.  Napoleon 
was  often  afterwards  heard  to  say,  that,  in  all  his 
negotiations  with  foreign  powers,  he  had  never  expe- 
rienced so  pertinacious  a  resistance  as  that  which  was 
made  to  this  demand.  The  Austrian  envoys  at  the 
French  head  quarters,  asserted  that  he  was  in  confine- 
ment in  the  imperial  territories.  But  Bonaparte 
distrusted  this  assertion,  and  sent  a  former  aid-de- 
camp of  La  Fayette,  to  communicate  directly  with  the 
Austrian  minister  on  the  subject.  He  was  finally 
released,  on  the  23d  September,  1797.  But  while  his 
liberation  was  effected  by  the  interference  of  the  army 
of  the  republic  abroad,  the  confiscation  and  sale  of  the 
residue  of  his  property  went  on  at  home. 

Included  in  the  general  decree  of  outlaAvry,  as  an 
emigrant.  La  Fayette  did  not  go  back  to  France  till 
the  directory  was  overturned.  On  the  establishment 
of  the  consular  government,  being  restored  to  his  civil 
rights,  though  with  the  loss  of  nearly  all  his  estates, 
he  returned  to  his  native  country,  and  sought  the 
16* 


186  LA    FAYETTE. 

retirement  of  Lagrange.  He  was  indebted  to  Napo- 
leon for  release  from  captivity,  probably  for  the  lives 
of  himself  and  family.  He  could  not  but  see  that  all 
hope  of  restoring  the  constitution  of  1791,  to  which 
he  had  pledged  his  faith,  was  over,  and  he  had  every 
reason  of  interest  and  gratitude  to  compound  with  the 
state  of  things  as  it  existed.  But  he  never  wavered 
for  a  moment.  Bonaparte  endeavored,  in  a  personal 
interview,  to  persuade  him  to  enter  the  senate  ;  but  in 
vain. 

From  the  tranquillity  of  private  life,  nothing  could 
now  draw  him.  Mr.  Jefi'erson  oflcred  him  the  place 
of  governor  of  Louisiana,  then  just  become  a  territory 
of  the  United  States  ;  but  he  was  unwilling,  by  leav- 
ing France,  to  take  a  step  that  would  look  like  a  final 
abandonment  of  the  cause  of  constitutional  liberty  on 
the  continent  of  Europe.  Napoleon  ceased  to  impor- 
tune him,  and  he  lived  at  Lagrange,  retired  and  unmo- 
lested, the  only  man  who  had  gone  through  the  terrible 
revolution  with  a  character  free  from  every  just 
impeachment.  He  entered  it  with  a  princely  fortune  ; 
in  the  various  high  offices  he  had  filled,  he  had 
declined  all  compensation ;  and  he  came  out  poor. 
He  entered  it  in  the  meridian  of  early  manhood,  with 
a  frame  of  iron.  He  came  out  of  it,  fifty  years  of  age, 
his  strength  impaired  by  the  cruelties  of  his  long  im- 
prisonment. 

But  the  time  at  length  arrived,  which  was  to  call 
La  Fayette  from  his  retirement,  and  place  him  again — 
the  veteran  pilot — at  the  helm.  The  colossal  edifice 
of  the  empire,  which  had  been  reared  by  Napoleon, 
crumbled  by  its  own  weight.     The  pride,  the  interests, 


LA    FAYETTE.  187 

the  vanity,  the  patriotism  of  the  nations  were  too 
deeply  insulted  and  wounded  by  his  domination. 

The  armies  of  Europe  poured  down  like  an  inun- 
dation on  France ;  twice  the  conqueror  is  conquered ; 
the  dynasty  of  the  Bourbons  is  restored;  and  La  Fayette 
is  now  found  at  the  tribune.  Tranquillity  being  estab- 
lished in  France,  and  being  invited  to  visit  the  United 
States  by  a  vote  of  congress,  he  comes  to  our  shores 
on  the  25th  August,  1824,  and  is  received  with  the 
most  enthusiastic  welcome.  His  tour  through  the 
country  will  never  be  forgotten.  Every^vhere  he  was 
met  by  crowds  of  people,  anxious  to  see  the  benefactoi 
of  their  country,  and  to  testify  their  heartfelt  homage 
and  gratitude.  There  is  perhaps  nothing  in  La 
Fayette's  life  more  remarkable  than  the  admirable 
tact,  sense  and  propriety  displayed  in  his  answers  to 
the  various  addresses  made  as  he  passed 'through  the 
country. 

Having  spent  several  months  in  the  United  States, 
he  returns  to  France,  and  we  soon  see  him  at  the 
head  of  a  new  revolution.  In  July,  1S30,  Charles 
X.  and  his  family  are  seen  flying  from  Paris,  and  La 
Fayette  is  commander  of  the  National  Guards  in  the 
Hotel  de  Ville.  The  dynasty  is  changed.  Louis 
Philippe  is  established  upon  the  basis  of  a  constitu- 
tional monarchy,  and  La  Fayette  once  more  resigns 
his  commission.  Insensible  to  the  love  of  power,  of 
money,  and  of  place,  he  is  again  a  private  citizen, 
exercising  only  the  office  of  a  representative  in  the 
chamber  of  deputies.  Thus  he  continued  till  May, 
1834.  In  attending  the  funeral  of  a  colleague  he  con- 
tracted a  cold,  which  settled  on  his  lungs.     After  a 


188  LA  FAYETTE. 

Struggle  with  the  remains  of  a  once  powerful  consti- 
tution, the  disease  triumphed,  and,  on  the  20th  of  the 
mouth  the  patriot  of  liberty  expired  at  Paris,  aged 
seventy-seven.  He  Avas  buried,  by  his  own  direction, 
not  within  the  walls  of  the  Pantheon — not  among  the 
great  and  illustrious,  that  people  the  silent  alleys  of 
Pere  la  Chaise — but  in  a  rural  cemetery  near  Paris, 
by  the  side  of  her  who  had  shared  his  pure  love  of 
liberty,  his  triumphs,  his  dungeon,  and  his  undying 
renown.  In  a  secluded  garden,  in  this  humble  retreat, 
beneath  the  shade  of  a  row  of  linden  trees,  by  the  side 
of  his  wife  and  his  daughter,  the  friend  of  Washing- 
ton and  America  lies  in  his  last  repose. 

In  whatever  aspect  we  may  regard  the  life  of  La 
Fayette,  it  must  strike  us  as  one  of  the  most  wonder- 
ful in  history.  It  is  crowded  with  events  of  an  extra- 
ordinary character,  and  displays  an  union  of  qualities, 
rarely  found  in  one  individual.  In  early  life  he  is 
superior  to  the  seductions  of  wealth  and  flattery ;  he  is 
not  enervated  by  luxury,  nor  corrupted  by  vice. 
While  all  around  him  is  bent  inhom^age  to  royalty, 
his  lofty  spirit  sympathizes  with  a  remote  people, 
struggling  for  liberty,  and  with  an  elevation  of  soul 
rarely  paralleled,  he  crosses  the  Atlantic,  expends  his 
fortune,  and  risks  his  life  in  the  cause  of  freedom. 

In  his  own  country,  he  becomes  the  leader  of 
mighty  movements  in  behalf  of  oppressed  humanity. 
He  acquires  an  ascendancy  over  millions,  and  is  at 
the  head  of  the  mightiest  army  of  citizen  soldiers  that 
was  ever  organized.  He  became  the  shield  of  royalty 
and  the  Atlas  of  the  revolution.  The  scene  changes  ; 
*he  reign  of  terror  is  established,  and  he  is  obliged  to 


LA    FAYETTE.  189 

fly  before  the  tempest.  He  is  firs/  m  exile — tlien  a 
captive — and,  finally,  a  prisoner,  cut  off  from  light  and 
air,  and  the  knowledge  of  mankind.  He  lingers  in 
dungeons  for  years ;  he  escapes,  is  recaptured,  and 
immured  in  still  deeper  dungeons.  Again  he  is  at 
liberty — he  returns  to  private  life,  and  here  he  remains, 
a  witness  of  the  most  stupendous  events,  till  a  new 
convulsion  shakes  the  earth,  and  he  is  summoned 
from  his  retirement.  The  storm  is  tranquillized,  and, 
after  an  absence  of  forty  years,  he  revisits  the  far 
land  whose  freedom  he  had  helped  to  achieve.  Here 
he  finds  a  nation  of  three  millions  increased  to  twelve, 
and  a  generation  born  since  his  departure,  now  ready 
to  welcome  him,  and  shower  honors  and  blessings  on 
his  name.  He  returns  to  Europe,  and  still  another 
revolution  is  at  han^.  In  the  midst  of  the  tempest, 
he  seizes  upon  the  helm,  and  while  the  Bourbon 
monarch  flies,  he  holds  the  reigns  of  power  in  the 
capital.  A  new  dynasty  is  founded,  and  a  new  king 
is  set  upon  the  throne ;  order  is  restored,  and  the 
patriot,  laying  down  his  mighty  power,  retires  again  to 
the  tranquil  pursuits  of  country  life. 

What  a  chequered  history  is  here !  What  vicissi- 
tudes of  fortune,  yet  what  consistency  of  action! 
There  is  an  equanimity,  a  dignity,  a  steadfastness 
about  the  character  of  La  Fayette,  which  elevates 
him  as  far  above  the  common  heroes  of  history,  as  the 
top  of  the  mountain,  catching  the  very  hues  of  heaven, 
is  above  the;  vulgar  mounds  and  knolls  that  lie  scat- 
tered at  its  base ;  and  the  secret  of  this  elevation  lies 
in  the  motive  Avhich  inspired  his  actions.  He  was  a 
patriot — a  philanthropist.     He  lived  for  his  country— 


190  LA    FAYETTE. 

for  mankind.  He  was  indeed  a  man  of  rare  faculties 
— he  possessed  a  skill  of  adaptation,  and  a  quickness 
of  perception,  amounting  to  genius  ;  yet  his  fame,  his 
power,  his  greatness,  arose  less  from  his  intellectual 
gifts,  than  his  moral  elevation.  How  great  a  boon 
has  he  conferred  on  mankind — not  only  by  his  deeds, 
but  by  his  fame,  and  his  example !  He  has  taught 
the  world  the  path  to  truer  glory  than  that  which  is 
won  upon  the  battle-field;  he  has  shown  the  elevating 
and  ennobling  power  of  a  virtuous  principle,  and  he 
has  set  before  mankind  the  strong  argument  of 
example  in  favor  of  a  disinterested  philanthropic 
career. 


mnffm 


KOSCIUSKO. 

Thaddexjs  Kosciusko,  the  last  generalissimo  of  the 
republic  of  Poland,  and  one  of  the  noblest  characters 
of  his  age,  was  descended  from  an  ancient  and  noble, 
though  not  rich  family,  in  Lithuania.  He  was  born 
at  the  chateau  of  Sienniewicze,  in  1756,  and  was 
educated  in  the  military  school  at  Warsaw.  The 
prince,  Adam  Czartoriski,  perceiving  his  talents  and 
industry,  made  him  second  lieutenant  in  the  corps  of 
cadets,  and  sent  him,  at  his  own  expense,  to  France, 
where  he  studied  drawing  and  the  military  art.  After 
his  return,  he  was  made  captain.  He  had  become 
attached  to  the  daughter  of  Sosnowski,  a  marshal  of 
Lithuania;  but  he  saw  her  married  to  Prince  Lubo- 
mirski.  He  now  left  Poland,  and  sought  to  bury  the 
memory  of  his  unhappy  passion  in  solitary  studies. 
He  devoted  himself  particularly  to  history  and  math- 
ematics, and,  possessing  great  elevation  of  character, 
he  was  prepared  to  join  in  the  contest  for  freedom, 
in  which  he  engaged.  Hearing  of  the  struggle  of  the 
American  colonies  for  liberty,  he  came  hither,  and 
gained  the  confidence  of  Washington,  who  made  him 
his  aid.  He  distinguished  himself  particularly  at  the 
siege  of  Ninety-Six,  and  was  very  highly  esteemed 
by  the  army  and  commander-in-chief.  He  and  La 
Fayette  were  the  only  foreigners  admitted  into  the 
society  of  Cincinnatus. 

In  our  service,  Kosciusko   received  the  rank  of 


TIIADDEUS    KOSCIUSKO.  193 

general,  and  in  17S6  he  returned  to  Poland.  In 
1789,  the  Polish  army  was  formed,  and  the  diet 
appointed  him  major-general.  In  1791,  he  served 
under  Prince  Joseph  Poniatowski,  and  in  the  cam- 
paign of  the  next  year,  he  distinguished  himself 
against  the  Russians.  At  Dubienka,  under  cover  of 
some  works  which  he  had  thrown  up,  he,  with  four 
thousand  men,  repulsed  three  attacks  of  the  Russians, 
ivho  amounted  to  thirteen  thousand  men.  Kosciusko 
was  obliged  to  retire,  but  he  retreated  without  severe 
toss,  while  the  Russians  lost  four  thousand  men. 

When  King  Stanislaus  submitted  to  Catherine, 
Kosciusko  left  the  army,  and  retired  from  Poland. 
He  went  to  Leipsic,  and  the  legislative  assembly  of 
France  at  this  time  gave  him  the  rights  of  a  French 
citizen.  The  Poles  becoming  impatient  under  the 
oppression  of  Russia,  some  of  Kosciusko's  friends  in 
"Warsaw  determined  to  make  an  effort  for  the  libera- 
tion of  the  country.  They  chose  him  for  their  gen- 
eral, and  made  him  acquainted  with  their  plans.  He 
imparted  them  to  the  counts  Ignatius  Potocki  and 
Kolontai,  in  Dresden,  who  thought  the  enterprise  inju- 
dicious. He,  however,  went  to  the  frontier,  and  sent 
General  Zayonczeck  and  Dzialynski  into  the  Russian 
provinces  of  Poland  to  prepare  everytbAng- i«  Si7ence. 

But  when  the  Polish  army  was  merged,  in  part, 
in  the  Russian,  and  the  remainder  reduced  to  fifteen 
thousand  men,  the  insurrection  broke  out  before  the 
time  fixed  upon.  The  people  flew  to  arms,  and  Kos- 
ciusko was  everywhere  proclaimed  as  generalissimo. 
The  troops  took  an  oath  of  allegiance  to  him,  and  by 
deed  appointed  him  dictator,  in  imitation  of  the  Ro- 
M  VI.— 17 


194  TIIADDEUS    KOSCIUSKO. 

man  custom,  on  occasions  of  emergency.  His  power 
was  absolute.  He  had  the  command  of  all  the  armies, 
and  the  regulation  of  all  affairs,  political  and  civil. 
Never  was  confidence  so  fully  and  unscrupulously 
reposed  by  a  nation  in  a  single  individual — never 
were  expectations  better  grounded.  On  the  1st  of 
April  he  left  Cracow  at  the  head  of  four  thousand 
men,  armed  mostly  with  scythes,  and,  on  the  4th  of 
the  same  month,  encountered  a  body  of  Russians,  more 
than  thrice  his  own  number,  near  the  village  of  Rac- 
lawice.  The  battle  lasted  for  five  hours,  and  victory 
declared  for  the  brave  Poles  ;  three  thousand  Russians 
being  killed  upon  the  spot.  This  success  confirmed 
the  wavering  patriots,  and  accelerated  the  develop- 
ment of  the  insurrection  throughout  the  kingdom. 
Wilna  and  other  cities  threw  off  the  yoke.  The 
patriots,  however,  suffered  a  defeat  near  Chelm,  and 
Cracow  soon  after  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 
By  this  time  the  Russians  and  their  allies  began  to 
approach  Warsaw.  Three  leagues  from  that  city,  at 
Praca-Wola,  Kosciusko  was  encamped. 

It  was  here  that  one  of  his  brothers  in  arms  found 
him  sleeping  on  straw.  The  picture  he  draws  of  this 
extraordinary  individual  in  his  camp,  is  an  interest- 
ing view  of  the  hero  who  upheld  the  fate  of  Poland. 
"  We  passed,"  says  Count  Oginski,  "  from  Koscius- 
ko's tent,  to  a  table  under  some  trees.  The  frugal 
repast  made  here,  with  a  dozen  guests,  will  never  be 
effaced  from  my  memory.  The  presence  of  this  great 
man,  who  had  excited  the  admiration  of  all  Europe ; 
who  was  the  terror  of  his  enemies,  and  the  idol  of  the 
nation  ;  who,  raised  to  the  rank  of  generalissimo,  had 


TIIADDEUS    KOSCIUSKO.  195 

no  ambition  but  to  serve  his  country  and  to  fight  for 
it ;  who  always  observed  an  unassuming,  affable  and 
mild  demeanor;  who  never  wore  any  distinguishing 
mark  of  the  supreme  authority  Avith  which  he  was 
invested;  who  was  contented"  with  a  suit  of  coarse, 
gray  cloth,  and  whose  table  was  as  plainly  furnished 
as  that  of  a  subaltern  officer ;  could  not  fail  to  awaken 
in  me  every  sentiment  of  esteem,  admiration  and  ven- 
eration, which  I  have  sincerely  felt  for  him  at  every 
period  of  my  life." 

The  enemy  continued  to  advance  towards  Warsaw, 
but  the  city  resisted  all  their  attacks.  At  length 
"Wilna  yielded  to  the  soldiers  of  Catherine,  and  the 
rest  of  the  province  soon  shared  the  same  fate.  On 
the  10th  of  October,  Kosciusko  fell  upon  Fersen. 
The  battle  was  bloody,  and  fatal  to  the  patriots. 
Victory  was  wavering,  and,  the  expected  reinforce- 
ments not  appearing,  Kosciusko,  at  the  head  of  his 
principal  officers,  made  a  furious  charge,  and  plunged 
into  the  midst  of  the  Russians.  He  fell,  covered  with 
wounds,  and  all  his  companions  were  killed  or  taken 
captive.  The  general  lay  senseless  among  the  slain. 
At  length  he  was  recognised,  notwithstanding  the 
plainness  of  his  uniform,  and  was  found  still  breath- 
ing. His  name  now  commanded  respect,  even  from 
the  barbarous  Cossacks — some  of  whon  were  about 
to  plunder  him.  They  instantly  formed  a  litter  with 
their  lances,  and  conveyed  him  to  the  commander-in- 
chief,  who  ordered  his  wounds  to  be  dressed,  and 
treated  him  with  the  consideration  he  deserved.  As 
soon  as  he  was  able  to  travel,  he  was  conducted  to 
Petersburg,  where  Catherine  condemned  this  high- 


196  TIIADDKUS    KOSCIUSKO. 

minded  patriot  to  end  his  days  in  prison.  The  news 
of  his  captivity  spread  like  lightning  to  Warsaw. 
Every  one  received  it  as  the  announcement  of  the 
country's  fall.  "  It  may  appear  incredible,"  says  Ogin- 
ski,  "  but  I  can  attest  what  I  have  beheld,  and  what 
a  number  of  witnesses  can  certify  with  me,  that  many 
invalids  were  seized  with  burning  fevers ;  some  fell 
into  fits  of  madness,  which  never  left  them ;  and  men 
and  women  were  seen  in  the  streets,  wringing  their 
hands,  beating  their  heads  against  the  walls,  and 
exclaiming  in  despair,  '  Kosciusko  is  no  more ;  the 
country  is  lost ! '  "  In  fact,  the  Poles  seemed  para- 
lyzed by  this  blow.  Warsaw  capitulated  in  a  short 
time  after  ;  and  the  soldiers  and  generals  of  the  revo- 
lution were  either  killed  or  dispersed,  immured  in 
the  prisons  of  Petersburg,  or  sent  to  Siberia. 

The  death  of  Catherine,  on  the  17th  of  November, 
1796,  delivered  the  Poles  from  a  detestable  tyrant. 
Her  successor,  the  Emperor  Paul,  commenced  a  new 
era  in  Russian  history,  that  of  clemency.  His  beha- 
vior to  Kosciusko  was  almost  heroic.  He  visited  him 
in  prison,  embraced  him  warmly,  and  told  him  he 
was  free.  He  even  presented  him  with  his  own 
sword,  but  the  Polish  hero  declined  it,  saymg,  "  I  no 
longer  need  a  sword,  since  I  have  no  longer  a  coun- 
try." To  the  day  of  his  death,  he  never  again  wore 
a  sword.  Paul  also  proposed  to  present  him  with  a  high 
military  post :  but  this  was  declined.  He  then  gave 
him  fifteen  hundred  serfs  and  twelve  thousand  roubles, 
as  a  testimony  of  regard.  But  Kosciusko  determined 
to  go  to  America,  and  returned  these  presents.  He 
then   proceeded,  by   way  of  England,  to   the   New 


TIIADDEUS    KOSCIUSKO.  197 

"World.  He  was  received  ■with  marks  of  the  greatest 
kindness  in  the  United  States  ;  and,  as  his  fortune 
was  small,  he  had  been  allowed  a  pension  from  our 
government.  On  his  arrival  in  France,  in  1798,  his 
countrymen,  in  the  Italian  army,  presented  him  with 
the  sword  of  John  Sobieski,  which  had  been  found 
at  Lorctto.  He  now  settled  near  Fontainbleau,  where 
he  resided  several  years. 

It  was  in  1797,  that  he  touched  at  England,  on  his 
passage  to  America.  Dr.  Warner,  who  saw  him  at 
the  house  of  the  consul  at  Bristol,  says :  "  I  never 
contemplated  a  more  interesting  human  figure  than 
Kosciusko,  stretched  on  his  couch.  His  wounds 
were  still  unhealed,  and  he  was  unable  to  sit  upright. 
He  appeared  to  be  a  small  man,  spare  and  delicate. 
A  black  silk  bandage  crossed  his  fair  and  high,  but 
somewhat  wrinkled  forehead.  Beneath  it,  his  dark, 
eagle  eye  sent  forth  a  flame  of  light,  that  indicated 
the  steady  flame  of  patriotism  which  still  burned 
within  his  soul,  unquenched  by  disaster  and  wounds 
weakness,  poverty  and  exile.  Contrasted  with  its 
brightness  was  the  paleness  of  his  countenance,  and 
the  wan  cast  of  every  feature.  He  spoke  tolerable 
English,  though  in  a  low  and  feeble  tone ;  but  his 
conversation,  replete  with  fine  sense,  lively  remark, 
and  sagacious  answers,  evinced  a  noble  understand- 
ing and  a  cultivated  mind.  On  rising  to  depart,  I 
oflTered  him  my  hand :  he  took  it.  My  eyes  filled 
with  tears ;  and  he  gave  it  a  warm  grasp.  I  mut- 
tered something  about  '  brighter  prospects  and  hap- 
pier days  ! '  He  faintly  smiled  and  said,  '  Ah  !  sir, 
17* 


198  THAUDEUS    KOSCIUSKO. 

he  who  devotes  hunself  for  his  country  must  not  look 
for  his  reward  on  this  side  of  the  grave.'" 

When,  in  1806,  Napoleon  felt  what  powerful  allies 
the  Poles,  fighting  for  liberty,  would  be  against  Rus- 
sia and  Prussia,  he  used  many  arts  to  engage  them 
in  his  cause.  There  was  one  man  then  living,  near 
Fontainbleau,  whose  name  alone  would  have  raised 
the  whole  population  of  Poland — Kosciusko.  Bona- 
parte made  him  the  most  pressing  invitations  to  share 
in  the  campaign,  and  urged  him,  again  and  again,  to 
address  his  fellow-countrymen,  and  call  upon  the 
Polish  nation  to  embrace  the  present  opportunity  of 
regaining  their  liberty.  But  Kosciusko  was  not 
dazzled  by  the  splendor  of  Napoleon's  career  ;  and  he 
divined  that  a  military  despot  might  be  as  treacherous 
as  hereditary  tyrants.  He  seemed,  too,  to  share,  in  a 
degree,  the  feelings  of  those  who,  being  set  free  and 
mildly  treated  by  Paul,  imagined  it  would  be  an  act 
of  ingratitude  to  appear  in  arms  against  him.  He 
never  ceased,  however,  to  hold  the  Avelfare  of  his 
native  land  most  dear  to  his  heart.  On  the  9th  of 
April,  1814,  after  the  allies  had  entered  Paris,  he  sent 
a  letter  to  Alexander,  in  behalf  of  the  Poles.  The 
emperor  returned  an  autograph  answer,  promising 
that  his  wishes  should  be  accomplished.  He  again 
wrote  to  Alexander,  on  the  10th  of  June,  1815,  at 
Vienna,  calling  upon  him  to  fulfil  the  promises  he 
had  made  to  him.  To  this  no  answer  was  given,  and 
Kosciusko,  certain  that  his  apprehensions  were  well 
founded,  on  the  13th  of  June  announced  his  intention 
to  retire  to  Switzerland.  This  design  he  soon  put 
into  execution,  arid  went  to  reside  at  Soleure,  where 


THADDEUS    KOSCIUSKO.  199 

he  ended  his  illustrious  life,  on  the  16th  of  October, 
1817. 

His  body  is  deposited  in  the  cathedral  of  Cracow, 
in  the  same  chapel  where  Sobieski  and  Joseph  Ponia 
towski  had  been  laid  before  him ;  and  on  the  summit 
of  the  artificial  mountain,  Bronislawa,  national  grati- 
tude has  erected  a  monument  to  his  immortal  mem- 
ory. 

The  materials  for  preparing  the  memoirs  of  Kosci- 
usko are  scanty,  but  enough  is  preserved  to  show  that 
his  character  was  one  of  the  finest  in  history.  As  a 
general,  his  rank  is  among  the  first,  and  his  achieve- 
ments altogether  wonderful.  During  the  war  of  1794, 
with  a  regular  force  of  twenty  thousand  men  and  four 
thousand  peasants,  he  maintained  himself  for  a  long 
period  against  four  hostile  armies,  amounting  to- 
gether to  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  men,  and 
led  by  the  greatest  generals  of  the  time.  In  the  dis- 
charge of  the  dictatorship  conferred  upon  him,  he 
displayed  the  integrity  of  Washington  and  the  activity 
"of  CoBsar.  He  attended  to  procuring  supplies,  super- 
intended the  raising  and  payment  of  money,  pre- 
vented plundering  and  fraud,  and  was  equally  active 
in  the  council  and  the  field.  His  days  and  nights, 
and  all  his  powers  were  devoted  to  his  country.  He 
secured  the  administration  of  justice,  abolished  bond- 
age, and  finally  restored  to  the  nation,  in  the  supreme 
national  council  which  he  established,  the  great 
power  which  had  been  delegated  to  him. 

The  amiableness  of  Kosciusko's  private  life  has 
given  a  beautiful  finish  to  his  fame,  so  exalted  as  a 
general  and  a  patriot.     A  single  anecdote  will  illus- 


200  TIIADDEUS    KOSCIUSKO. 

trate  his  character.  He  once  wished  to  send  some 
wine  to  a  clergyman  at  Solothurn ;  and,  as  he  hesi- 
tated to  trust  it  by  his  servant,  lest  he  should  take 
some  of  it,  he  gave  the  commission  to  a  young  man 
of  the  name  of  Zeltner,  and  desired  him  to  use  the 
horse  which  he  himself  usually  rode.  On  his  return, 
young  Zeltner  said  that  he  would  never  ride  his 
horse  again,  unless  he  gave  him  his  purse  at  the  same 
time.  Kosciusko  inquiring  what  he  meant,  he  an- 
swered,— "  As  soon  as  a  poor  man  on  the  road  takes 
off  his  hat  and  asks  charity,  the  horse  immediately 
stands  still,  and  will  not  stir  till  something  is  given  to 
the  petitioner ;  and  as  I  had  no-  money  about  me,  I 
was  obliged  to  feign  giving  something,  to  satisfy  the 
beast." 

The  sympathy  which  was  excited  by  the  struggle 
of  the  Poles  in  1794,  and  the  heroic  character  of 
Kosciusko,  are  well  commemorated  in  the  following 
lines  of  Campbell,  from  the  "  Pleasures  of  Hope." 

Oh  !  sacred  truth !  thy  triumph  ceased  awhile  ! 
And  Hope,  thy  sister,  ceased  with  thee  to  smile, 
When  leagued  oppression  poured  to  northern  wars 
Her  whiskered  pandoors  and  her  fierce  hussars, 
Waved  her  dread  standard  to  the  breeze  of  morn. 
Pealed  her  loud  drum,  and  twanged  her  trumpet  horn ; 
Tumultuous  horror  brooded  o'er  her  van. 
Presaging  wrath  to  Poland, — and  to  man ! 

Warsaw's  last  champion  from  her  height  surveyed 
Wide  o'er  the  fields,  a  waste  of  ruin  laid, — 
Oh !  Heaven !  he  cried,  my  bleeding  country  save ! 
Is  there  no  hand  on  high  to  shield  the  brave  ? 
Yet  though  destruction  sweeps  those  lovely  plains, 
Rise,  fellow-men !  our  country  yet  remains  ' 


THABUEUS    KOSCIUSKO. 


201 


By  that  dread  name,  \ve  wave  the  sword  on  high ! 
And  swear  for  her  to  live, — with  her  to  die ! 

He  said,  and  on  the  rampart  heights  arrayed 
His  trusty  warriors,  lew,  but  undismayed ; 
Firm  paced  and  slow,  a  horrid  front  they  form, 
Still  as  the  breeze,  but  dreadful  as  the  storm ; 
Low  murmuring  sounds  along  their  banners  fly, 
Revenge  or  death,— the  watch-word  and  reply; 
Then  pealed  the  notes,  omnipotent  to  charm, 
And  the  loud  tocsin  tolled  their  last  alarm! 

In  vain,  alas !  in  vain,  ye  gallant  few. 

From  rank  to  rank  your  volleyed  thunder  flew ; 

Ob,  bloodiest  picture  in  the  book  of  Time, 

Sarmatia  fell,  unwept,  without  a  crime  ; 

Found  not  a  generous  friend,  a  pitying  foe. 

Strength  in  her  arms,  nor  mercy  in  her  wo ! 

Dropped  from  her  nerveless  grasp,  the  shattered  spear, 

Closed  her  bright  eye,  and  curbed  her  high  career; 

Hope,  for  a  season,  bade  the  world  farewell, 

And  Freedom  shrieked,  as  Kosciusko  fell ! 


^(JPQOogiJQonoC'"^ 


WILLIAM  TELL. 

Those  who  have  perused  the  charming'  romance 
of  Florian,  under  the  title  of  "William  Tell,  or 
Switzerland  Delivered,"  may  be  reluctant  to  come 
down  to  the  somewhat  meagre  details  which  consti- 
tute all  we  know  of  his  veritable  history.  Yet,  as,  on 
the  one  hand,  the  "  Deliverer  of  Switzerland  "  demands 
a  place  in  our  list  of  patriots — so  sober  truth  compels 
us  to  say  that  in  the  dearth  of  well  authenticated  facts 
respecting  his  life,  the  real  existence  of  such  a  man 
has  been  seriously  denied.  It  is  not  our  purpose, 
however,  to  dwell  upon  these  doubts — William  Tell 
unquestionably  lived  and  performed  the  great  actions 
attributed  to  him  ;  and  these  we  shall  present  to  the 
reader. 

We  must  travel  back  more  than  five  hundred  years, 
and  take  our  stand  in  the  centre  of  Europe,  at  the 
period  when  the  dark  ages  are  nearly  passed,  and  the 
light  of  civilization  is  beginning  to  dawn  along  the 
horizon. 

At  this  epoch,  Kodolph,  Count  of  Hapsburgh,  in 
Switzerland,  appeared  upon  the  stag-e  of  history.  His 
possessions  were  small,  but  he  had  fine  talents,  a  good 
address  and  boundless  ambition ;  and  in  the  course  of 
events,  he  became  the  emperor  of  Germany.  This 
occurred  in  1273.  From  him  the  present  house  of 
Austria  is  descended.  For  a  series  of  generations  the 
daughters  of  this  family  have  been  remarkable  for  their 


WILLIAM    TELL.  203 

beauty,  and  it  is  by  marriage  with  the  principal 
reigning  families  of  Europe,  that  its  aggrandizement 
has  been  chiefly  effected.  From  this  circumstance, 
it  has  been  said  that  the  house  of  Hapsburgh  is  more 
indebted  to  Venus  than  to  Mars,  for  its  exahation. 

It  was  the  son  of  this  Rodolph,  Albert  I.,  who  suc- 
ceeded his  father  as  emperor,  that  gave  rise  io  the 
events  connectgd  with  the  history  of  Tell.  He  was  a 
grasping  prince,  and,  wishing  to  increase  his  territo- 
rial dominions,  undertook  to  unite  the  forest  cantons 
of  Switzerland,  as  they  were  called,  to  his  personal 
estates  of  Hapsburgh,  which  he  had  inherited.  These 
cantons  belonged  to  the  German  empire,  and  as  they 
had  been  mildly  governed,  they  wished  to  continue 
so.  They  therefore  rejected  the  overtures  of  Albert, 
at  which  he  was  greatly  incensed.  Accordingly,  in 
his  capacity  of  emperor,  he  sent  governors  to  harass, 
oppress,  and  punish  them.  These  were  two  detesta- 
table  characters,  named  Gesler  and  Landenberg. 

The  people  were  now  exposed  to  all  the  vexatious 
persecutions  of  little  tyrants,  who  were  anxious  to  re- 
commend themselves,  by  abuse  of  power,  to  the  favor 
of  an  angry  master.  Offences  became  arbitrary,  and 
punishments  capricious.  The  governors  never  ap- 
peared in  public,  unless  they  were  surrounded  by  a 
numerous  guard.  Nor  did  they  omit  other  precau- 
tions, designed  alike  to  secure  themselves  against 
sudden  ebullitions  of  popular  fury,  and  to  rivet 
more  firmly  the  chains  which  it  was  the  sole  object 
of  their  mission  to  impose.  Fortresses  were  erected 
in  the  disaffected  places,  into  which  persons  of 
every  description   were    thrown,  upon  the   slightest 


204  WILLIAM    TELL. 

grounds  of  suspicion.  At  the  same  time,  all  commer- 
cial intercourse  with  their  neighbors  was  entirely 
denied  to  the  people  by  the  exorbitant  duties  imposed 
upon  merchandise  of  every  kind,  in  its  passage  to  and 
from  the  forest  cantons. 

We  may  more  clearly  infer  the  general  character 
of  the- administration  of  the  German  governors,  by  a 
few  instances  of  their  conduct.  Gesler,  passing  one 
day  by  a  neat  and  commodious  house,  which  had  been 
lately  built  by  a  person  of  the  name  of  Staufacher, 
and  which  was  externally  decorated  with  more  than 
common  elegance,  inquired  for  the  owner,  and  ad- 
dressed him  thus,  with  a  contemptuous  smile  :  "  Do 
you  think  such  a  habitation  suited  to  the  condition  of 
a  peasant  ?  You  complain  of  the  emperor's  exactions, 
but  while  he  leaves  you  wherewithal  to  erect  such 
buildings  as  these,  you  have  too  much  reason  to  be 
thankful."  And  immediately  he  ordered  his  satellites 
to  pull  it  down.  Staufacher,  from  that  moment,  be- 
came an  ardent  champion  in  the  cause  of  liberty. 

Landenberg  was  no  less  active  in  sowing  the  seeds 
of  discontent.  Having  seized  the  oxen  belonging  to 
a  respectable  farmer  for  some  slight  offence,  the  pro- 
prietor implored  him  to  inflict  some  other  punishment, 
if  he  should  in  reality  be  found  guilty  of  the  crime  of 
which  he  was  accused ;  for  that,  otherwise,  he  must 
inevitably  be  ruined,  having  no  other  means  of  culti- 
vating his  farm.  "  Let  the  miscreant  draw  his  own 
plough ! "  was  the  reply ;  and  immediately  another 
hero  was  enlisted  under  the  standard  of  freedom. 

Henry,  of  Melchthal,  a  strenuous  advocate  for  the 
independence  of  his  country,  and  who,  by  the  integ- 


WILLIAM    TELL. 


205 


rity  of  his  character,  had  become  an  object  of  general 
respect,  was  selected  as  another  victim.  Landenberg, 
whose  punishments  were  in  general  quickened  by  the 
cupidity  of  his  disposition,  sent,  upon  some  trifling 
provocation,  to  seize  his  oxen,  while  they  were  em- 
ployed in  the  labors  of  husbandry.  His  son,  a  gallant 
youth,  opposed  the  execution  of  the  decree,  and  drove 
away  the  officers  of  justice  with  the  same  whip  with 
which  he  had  before  been  driving  the  plough.  Young 
Melchthal  fled.  The  governor,  who  was  irritated 
beyond  description  at  the  insult  which  had  been 
offered  to  his  authority,  and  still  more  so  to  find  that 
his  prey  had  escaped,  commanded  the  aged  father  to 
be  dragged  into  his  presence,  and,  after  reviling  him 
in  the  most  opprobrious  language,  caused  his  eyes  to 
be  put  out,  while  he  himself  stood  by  to  see  the  savage 
sentence  executed. 

Gesler  was  the  slave  of  vanity,  and  sought,  by  every 
means,  to  gratify  his  prevailing  passion.  Among 
other  expedients  he  caused  a  pole  to  be  erected  in  the 
market  place,  at  Altorf,  and  a  hat  to  be  suspended 
upon  it ;  to  which  he  enjoined  all  the  passengers  to 
pay  the  same  respect  that  was  due  to  his  own  person. 
So  wanton  a  display  of  tyranny  could  not  fail  to 
inflame  the  public,  who  wanted  no  accession  of  out- 
rage to  make  them  feel  the  misery  of  their  dejected 
state.  Yet  so  completely  were  they  kept  in  awe  by 
the  numerous  fortresses  which  the  new  government 
had  erected  in  all  parts  of  their  territory,  that  they 
sunk  into  sullen  despondency. 

Staufacher  appears  to  have  been  the  first  to  con- 
ceive the  idea  of  deliverance  from  this  cruel  tyranny. 
VL— 18      '* 


206  WILLIAM    TELL. 

In  silence  he  contemplated  tlie  degraded  state  to  which 
his  country  was  reduced.  He  brooded  over  her 
wrongs  in  secret.  He  meditated  upon  the  energies 
of  the  human  mind,  and  felt,  from  inward  conviction, 
that  man  was  destined  by  nature  to  he  something 
more  than  the  passive  slave  of  despotism.  Having 
reduced  his  ideas  to  a  regular  plan,  he  hastened  to 
communicate  them  to  his  friend  Walter  Furst.  At 
his  house,  he  met  young  Arnold  of  Melchthal,  who 
had  taken  refuge  under  his  hospitable  roof,  from  the 
pursuit  of  Landenberg.  Misfortune  is  the  parent  of 
confidence.  They  had  suffered  in  the  same  cause,  and 
flew  to  each  other's  arms  with  all  the  attachment  of 
men  Avho  were  connected  by  the  strongest  of  ties — 
the  love  of  freedom.  Having  deliberately  weighed 
the  dangers  to  which  they  were  exposed,  and  imparted 
to  each  other  the  hopes  with  which  they  were  ani- 
mated, they  bound  themselves  by  the  most  solemn 
promise  to  break  the  fetters  of  their  country,  or  to 
perish  in  the  attempt. 

Having  finally  engaged  to  observe  the  profoundest 
secrecy,  and  agreed  that  no  partial  attempts  should 
be  made  till  the  mine  was  ready  to  be  sprung ;  and, 
having  fixed  upon  a  place  where  they  might  meet 
with  a  few  chosen  friends,  to  consult  upon  the  neces- 
sary preparations  for  a  general  insurrection,  they  took 
leave  of  each  other. 

To  propagate  the  electric  flame  among  a  people, 
whose  wishes  were  in  perfect  unison  with  their  own, 
required  not  the  arts  of  persuasion.  The  founders  of 
Helvetic  liberty  met  with  a  sure  and  ardent  friend  in 
every  person  to  whom  they  entrusted  the  important 


WILLIAM    TELL.  207 

secret.     But  they  were  cautious  in  their  measures 
and  discreet  in  the  selection  they  made. 

On  the  17th  of  November,  1307,  the  day  fixed  for 
their  meeting,  each  of  them  appeared  at  the  appointed 
spot,  attended  by  ten  chosen  companions.  This  noc- 
turnal assembly  was  held  in  the  field  of  Kutli ;  a 
retired  meadow,  on  the  shores  of  the  lake  of  Lu- 
cerne, exactly  on  the  confines  between  Schweitz  and 
Uri.  Its  solitary  situation  and  surrounding  rocks 
seemed  to  preclude  the  possibility  of  a  surprise. 
Conscious,  however,  that  a  secret  Avhich  was  known 
to  so  many  persons,  was  at  best  precarious,  the  greater 
part  of  the  conspirators  were  for  an  immediate  rising, 
alleging  that,  in  situations  like  theirs,  delay  was  ruin. 
Melchthal,  on  the  contrary,  employed  every  argument 
he  was  master  of,  to  combat  such  precipitate  resolu- 
tions. 

The  energy  with  which  he  spoke,  brought  over  the 
whole  assembly  to  his  opinion.  All  ideas  of  an  im- 
mediate aggression  were  laid  aside,  and  the  first  day 
of  the  new  year  was  appointed  for  fhe  execution  of 
the  momentous  project.  This  weighty  business  being 
thus  decided,  every  man  returned  to  his  accustomed 
occupations,  with  as  much  apparent  tranquillity  as  if 
his  only  hope  in  the  approaching  year  had  been  a 
fertile  season  and  an  abundant  crop. 

An  event,  however,  took  place  in  the  interval,  which, 
without  the  most  unexampled  prudence  on  the  part  of 
the  conspirators,  would  have  destroyed  their  hopes 
forever.  We  have  alreadj'  seen  to  what  a  degree  of 
insolence  Gesler  had  carried  his  capiicious  pride. 
Presumption  proved  his  ruin.     William  Tell,  a  name 


208  WILLIAM    TELL. 

which  will  be  ever  celebrated  in  the  annals  of  Helvetia, 
had  married  the  daughter  of  Walter  Furst,  and  upon 
that  account,  as  well  as  from  his  enthusiastic  attach- 
ment to  the  cause  of  liberty,  had  been  admitted  a 
member  of  the  patriotic  band. 

Happening  one  day  to  pass  through  Altorf,  thfc 
sight  of  the  hat  influenced  his  indignation  to  such  a 
pitch  against  the  governor,  that  he  not  only  refused 
obedience  to  his  fantastic  mandate,  but  treated  the 
magisterial  ensign  with  contempt.  Gesler  was  no 
sooner  informed  of  what  had  passed,  than  he  com- 
manded the  bold  plebeian  to  be  dragged  before  him, 
and,  giving  way  to  the  suggestions  of  unbridled  fury, 
decreed  that,  as  a  punishment  for  his  audacity,  he 
should,  at  the  approaching  festival,  either  pierce,  with 
an  arrow,  an  apple  placed  upon  the  head  of  his  son, 
a  boy  of  five  or  six  years  old,  or  should  suffer  imme- 
diate death.  So  strange  and  inhuman  a  sentence 
was  little  calculated  either  to  soothe  the  minds  of  the 
discontented  populace,  or  to  calm  the  resentment  of 
the  offended  palr%)t.  For  some  moments  he  hesitated; 
but,  confident  in  his  own  unerring  aim,  after  a  little 
reflection,  he  accepted  the  trial.  To  this,  too,  he  was 
doubtless,  in  part,  prompted  by  the  consideration  that 
a  scene  of  such  wanton  cruelty  must  operate  upon 
the  feelings  of  the  spectators  in  a  manner  conformable 
to  his  secret  views. 

On  the  appointed  day,  Gesler  appeared  in  the 
market  place  at  Altorf,  seated  in  his  chair  of  state,  and 
encircled  by  his  body-guard.  His  countenance  be- 
spoke the  insolence  of  triumph.  With  a  savage  smile, 
he  ordered  the  culprit  to  be  brought  forward.     Tell 


WILLIAM    TELL,  209 

came  with  a  resolute  step.  The  attenth'e  crowd,  who 
had  been  attracted  from  the  remotest  valleys  to  the 
spot,  trembled  as  he  passed.  He  took  his  post.  The 
boy  was  stationed,  by  the  governor's  direction,  at  a 
distance  which  appeared  to  him  the  most  unfavorable 
to  the  archer's  skill.  Tell  grasped  his  bow.  Mute 
attention  prevailed.  Every  heart  beat  Avith  interest 
and  anxiety.  He  drew  the  string ;  the  arrow  flew ; 
the  divided  apple  fell.  Repeated  peals  announced 
the  joy  of  the  spectators,  and  rebounded  through  the 
adjacent  rocks.  The  hero  ran  to  his  child,  caught 
him  in  his  arms,  and  clasped  him  to  his  bosom.  He 
gave  way  to  the  eflusions  of  nature.  Unable  any 
longer  to  suppress  the  violence  of  his  emotions,  he 
turned  to  the  governor,  and,  producing  another  arrow, 
exclaimed,  "Had  viy  boy  fallen,  this  loas  destined  for 
thee ! " 

At  once  a  prey  to  disappointment,  rage,  and  shame, 
Gesler  commanded  his  soldiers  again  to  seize  the 
bold  offender.  The  populace  interposed  in  vain.  In 
vain  they  resisted  the  guard.  After  a  short  conflict, 
Tell  was  mastered,  and,  in  order  to  secure  him  against 
any  attempts  which  might  be  made  for  his  rescue, 
Gesler  commanded  him  to  be  conveyed  to  Kusnach, 
a  fortress  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  lake.  Fearing, 
however>  that  the  vmmerited  rigor  of  his  fate  might 
excito  a  sentiment  of  compassion  in  the  bosoms  of  those 
on  whom  he  had  imposed  the  execution  of  this  harsh 
decree,  the  governor  resolved  to  accompany  him  in 
person,  and  embarked  with  his  attendants  in  the  same 
boat.  But  scarcely  were  they  out  of  the  reach  of 
the  shore,  when  the  clouds,  which  had  been  gathering 
N  18* 


210  WILLIAM    TELL, 

round  the  summit  of  St.  Gothard,  and  to  which  Ges- 
ler,  blinded  by  excessive  passion,  had  paid  little 
attention,  burst  in  a  furious  tempest.  The  violence 
of  the  storm  precluded  all  possibility  of  returning,  and 
the  surrounding  rocks,  which  rise  almost  perpendicu- 
larly from  the  level  of  the  water,  rendered  all  attempts 
to  land  impracticable.  The  watermen  sunk  under 
the  labor  of  the  oar,  and,  unable  longer  to  contend 
affainst  the  fury  of  the  winds,  gave  in,  and  commended 
themselves  to  Providence  for  protection. 

In  this  fearful  crisis,  some  one  of  the  passengers, 
recollecting  that  Tell  had  the  reputation  of  being  a 
skilful  pilot,  suggested  to  the  governor,  as  the  only 
expedient  that  was  left,  to  prevail  upon  him  to  take 
charge  of  the  vessel,  and  to  exert  his  power  for  their 
mutual  salvation.  Gesler  caught  with  eagerness  at 
the  proposal.  The  prisoner  was  unbound  and  placed 
at  the  helm.  For  some  time  he  struggled  manfully 
against  the  storm,  and  took  advantage  of  his  local 
knowledge,  to  weather  its  fury ;  till,  by  degrees,  he 
approached  the  bank,  at  a  spot  where  the  receding 
mountains  leave  a  small  promontory  for  man  to  save 
himself  from  the  fury  of  the  waves.  The  courage  of 
the  passengers  now  revived.  They  already  thought 
themselves  secure.  But,  as  Tell  approached  the 
shore,  having  conducted  the  bark  to  the  spot  he  wished, 
he  boldly  plunged  into  the  flood.  With  one  hand  he 
seized  the  rock ;  with  the  other  he  pushed  back  the 
vessel,  and  left  the  affrighted  tyrant,  Avith  his  dis- 
mayed companions,  in  a  situation  little  short  of 
despair.  The  tempest,  however,  at  length  abated — 
with  difficulty  they  gained  the  shore.     But  the  gov- 


WILLIAM    TELL.  211 

ernor  had  escaped  the  waves,  only  to  meet  another 
fate.  Tell,  who  had  escaped,  met  him  on  the  road,  a 
little  beyond  Brunnen,  and,  in  an  instant,  an  arrow 
laid  him  dead  at  his  feet ! 

The  news  of  this  event  ran  like  an  electric  spark 
among  the  friends  of  liberty,  and  threatened  to  pre- 
cipitate the  movement  contemplated  by  Furst  and  his 
associates.  But  such  was  their  prudence,  that  the 
ferment  subsided,  and  stratagem  was  adopted  rather 
than  force.  It  was  an  important  object  to  get  posses- 
sion of  the  strong  castle  of  Rotzberg.  Here  dwelt  a 
maiden  beloved  by  a  Swiss  youth  named  Wolfgang. 
She  was  persuaded  by  her  lover  to  admit  him  into 
her  room  at  night,  by  means  of  a  ladder  let  down 
from  her  window.  He  ascended,  several  of  his  com- 
panions followed,  and  the  castle  was  taken  without 
bloodshed. 

Early  on  the  following  morning,  a  select  party  of 
the  brave  inhabitants  of  Unterwalden  met  Landenberg, 
as  he  was  going  from  the  castle  of  Sarnen  to  the 
parish  church,  to  be  present  at  the  celebration  of  mass 
on  new-year's  day.  They  were  loaded  with  presents, 
which,  according  to  the  usages  of  those  times,  were 
offered  at  this  season  to  men  in  power.  A  troop  of 
thirty  more  lay  in  ambush  near  the  walls,  ready  to 
appear  upon  the  first  alarm.  Delighted  with  the 
liberality  of  the  offering,  which  had  been  purposely 
made  more  abundant  than  usual,  the  governor  invited 
them  into  the  castle,  and  ordered  them  to  be  welcomed 
with  a  hospitable  glass.  But  no  sooner  had  they 
gained  admittance  into  the  court,  than  the  expected 
signal  was  given  by  a  blast  upon  a  horn.     The  men 


212  WILLIAM    TELL. 

without  flew  to  the  assistance  of  their  friends.  They 
seized  upon  the 'bridge  and  the  magazine  of  arms 
before  the  little  garrison  was  prepared  to  resist.  Ter- 
rified by  the  suddenness  of  the  attack,  and  ignorant 
of  the  numbers  by  whom  they  were  assailed,  they 
threw  down  their  swords,  and  surrendered,  upon  the 
promise  of  their  lives. 

The  insurgents,  who  had  now  risen  on  all  sides, 
were  everywhere  equally  fortunate.  In  the  course 
of  one  day,  the  castles  of  Sarnen  and  Rotzberg,  in 
Unterwalden,  those  of  Schwanan  and  Kusnach,  in 
Schweitz,  and  the  newly-erected  fortress  near  Altorf, 
in  Uri,  were  taken  and  given  up  to  the  flames ;  and 
with  them  Avas  every  vestige  of  despotism  effaced. 
History  exhibits  few  events  more  extraordinary  than 
this.  Whether  we  consider  the  advantages  which 
were  obtained,  the  means  by  which  the  conquest  was 
effected,  or  the  humanity  with  which  it  was  used,  we 
shall  find  equal  cause  for  admiration  and  wonder; 
at  a  moment  when,  flushed  with  victory  and  irritated 
by  the  most  wanton  acts  of  oppression,  much  might 
have  been  urged  in  defence  of  the  insurgents,  had 
they  overstept  the  bounds  of  moderation,  and  given 
way  to  those  excesses  which  are  the  common  attend- 
ants of  recovered  liberty.  But  all  former  animosities 
were  buried  in  oblivion.  The  prisoners  were  treated 
with  generosity,  and,  being  conducted  to  the  frontiers, 
were  released,  upon  a  solemn  promise  that  they  would 
never  more  pollute  the  land  of  freedom  with  their 
venal  step.  Indeed,  except  in  the  single  instance  of 
Gesler,  who  fell  the  victim  of  his  own  imprudence, 
not  one  drop  of  blood  was  shed  ! 


WILLIAM    TELL.  213 

The  welcome  intelligence  flew  with  rapidity  from 
mountain  to  mountain.  Every  goatiierd  immediately 
threw  aside  his  pipe  and  crook,  and  armed  in  the 
common  cause.  Staufacher,  Melchlhal,  Tell,  and 
Walter  Furst  were  received  by  their  exulting  coun- 
trymen with  every  demonstration  of  gratitude  which 
the  simplicity  of  rustic  manners  would  allow.  The 
joy  was  universal.  The  opulent  farmer  set  wide  his 
hospitable  door  to  his  poorer  neighbor,  and,  amid  the 
festivity  that  prevailed,  the  names  of  their  deliverers 
resounded  with  blessings  from  every  tongue.  The 
world,  perhaps,  never  exhibited  a  spectacle  more  con- 
genial to  humanity.  It  was  the  triumph  of  innocence 
over  the  unjust  attempts  of  despotism. 

Of  the  subsequent  events  of  Toll's  life  we  know 
but  little.  He  is  said  to  have  taken  part  in  the  war 
which  was  afterwards  waged  with  the  Austrian  gov- 
ernment, and  to  have  lost  his  life  in  an  inundation, 
about  the  year  1350.  We  may  lament  this  barrenness 
of  detail,  yet  enough  has  been  rescued  from  the  obliv- 
ion of  the  past,  to  excite  our  sympathy,  to  furnish  a 
lasting  lesson  to  tyrants,  and  to  show  us  that  liberty 
may  find  a  champion  even  in  the  unlettered  peasant, 
in  a  dark  age,  and  amid  the  wildest  and  most  rugged 
recesses  of  nature. 


JOHN   HOWARD, 

Who  has  justly  obtained  a  celebrity  over  the  whole 
civilized  world  for  his  extraordinary  and  unceasing 
■>fforts  in  the  cause  of  suffering  humanity,  and  for 
which  he  has  been  generally  and  justly  entitled  "  the' 
Benevolent  Howard,"  was  born  about  the  year  1727, 
at  Clapton,  in  the  parish  of  Hackney,  a  large  village 
immediately  adjoining  London.  To  this  place  his 
father  seems  to  have  removed  from  the  pursuit  of  his 
business  as  an  upholsterer,  in  Long  Lane,  Smithfield, 
where  he  had  acquired  a  considerable  fortune.  The 
education  of  young  Howard  was  extremely  superficial ; 
and  when  he  left  school,  he  was  put  as  an  apprentic*? 


JOHN    HOYv^ARD.  215 

to  a  wholesale  grocer  in  the  city  ;  but  this  situation  not 
being  at  all  to  his  taste,  he  embraced  the  opportunity, 
on  coming  of  age,  of  purchasing  from  his  master  the 
remainder  of  his  time.  By  his  father's  will,  he  was 
not  to  be  the  possessor  of  his  inheritance  until  he 
reached  his  twenty-fourth  year,  and  then  he  became 
entitled  to  the  sum  of  seven  thousand  pounds,  in  addi- 
tion to  the  whole  of  his  father's  landed  property,  his 
plate,  furniture,  pictures,  &c. 

Coming  thus  into  the  possession  of  a  respectable 
patrimony,  he  was  now  at  liberty  to  follow  out  the 
bent  of  his  inclinations,  which  he  did  by  setting  out 
on  his  travels  through  France  and  Italy.  On  his 
return,  being  of  delicate  health  and  inclined  to  con- 
sumption, he  was  put  upon  a  rigorous  regimen,  Avhich 
is  said  to  have  laid  the  foundation  of  that  extraordi- 
nary abstemiousness  and  indifference  to  the  gratifica- 
tion of  his  palate,  which  ever  after  so  much  distin- 
guished him.  In  1752,  when  twenty-five  years  of 
age,  he  married  a  lady  in  her  fifty-second  year;  a  step 
he  took  in  consequence  of  having  received  from  her 
many  marks  of  kind  attention  during  a  sickness  Avith 
which  he  was  overtaken.  The  death  of  his  wife  in  a 
few  years  put  an  end  to  this  somewhat  imprudent 
connexion.  Soon  after  this  event,  he  resolved  upon 
leaving  England  on  another  tour,  with  a  view  to  divert 
his  mind  from  the  melancholy  reflections  which  that 
lispensation  of  Providence  had  occasioned. 

The  country  which  Howard  first  intended  to  visit 
was  Portugal,  then  rendered  particularly  interesting 
by  the  situation  of  its  capital,  still  smoking  in  ruins 
from   the  effects  of  a   tremendous   earthquake.     A 


216  JOHN    HOWARD. 

great  part  of  its  capital,  Lisbon,  and  thousands  of 
its  inhabitants,  had  been  embowelled  in  the  earth.  It 
was  to  this  sublime  spectacle  that  Mr.  Howard's 
attention  Avas  principally  directed  ;  and  he  accordingly 
took  his  passage  in  a  vessel,  which,  unfortunately, 
was  captured  by  a  French  privateer.  This  event," 
unlucky  in  itself,  gave  a  turn  to  the  fate  of  the  young 
philanthropist,  and  proved  ultimately  beneficial  to 
mankind.  His  captors  used  him  with  great  cruelty; 
for,  after  having  been  kept  forty  hours  without  food 
or  water,  he  was  carried  into  Brest,  and  confined, 
with  the  other  prisoners,  in  the  castle  of  that  place. 
Here,  after  being  cast,  with  the  crew  and  the  rest  of 
the  passengers,  into  a  filthy  dungeon,  and  there  kept  a 
considerable  time  without  nourishment,  a  joint  of  mut- 
ton was  at  length  thrown  into  the  midst  of  them,  and, 
for  want  of  a  knife,  they  were  obliged  to  tear  it  in 
pieces,  and  gnaw  it  like  dogs.  In  this  dungeon  he 
and  his  companions  lay  for  six  nights  upon  the  floor, 
with  nothing  but  straw.  He  was  afterwards  removed 
to  Morlaix,  and  thence  to  Carpaix,  Avhere  he  was  two 
months  upon  parole. 

He  had  no  sooner  obtained  his  own  freedom,  than  he 
exerted  all  his  influence  to  procure  the  liberation  of 
some  of  his  fellow-countrymen.  Whilst  at  Carpaix, 
he  obtained  abundant  evidence  cf  the  English  prison- 
ers of  war  in  France  being  treated  with  inhuman  bar- 
barity, and  he  did  not  rest  till  he  influenced  the  gov- 
ernment in  their  behalf.  It  is  to  this  event  that  we 
may  refer  the  first  excitement  of  his  attention  to 
those  who  Avere  sick,  and  in  prison,  which  afterwards 
occupied   the  greater  part  of  sixteen   years.     Soon 


JOHN    HOWARD.  217 

ifter  his  return  to  England,  he  formed  a  connection 
with  an  amiable  young  lady,  whom  he  married,  and 
with  her  assistance  he  carried  into  effect  various 
schemes  of  benevolence,  for  meliorating  the  condi- 
tion of  his  tenantry  and  the  poor  in  his  neighborhood. 
Of  this  valuable  assistance  he  was,  however,  deprived, 
by  the  death  of  his  wife,  soon  after  she  had  given 
birth  to  a  son. 

In  1769-70,  Mr.  Howard  paid  a  third  and  fourth 
visit  to  the  continent,  and  of  which  he  has  left  various 
memoranda,  written  in  a  strain  of  unaffected  Chris- 
tian piety.  In  1773,  while  in  his  retirement  in 
England,  he  was  created  high  sheriff  of  the  county  of 
Bedford.  In  this  office  he  had  numberless  opportuni- 
ties of  inspecting  the  condition  of  the  jails  and  bride- 
wells under  his  jurisdiction,  of  remedying  grievances, 
and  alleviating  the  distresses  of  poor  prisoners.  The 
more  he  saw  of  the  condition  of  the  English  prisons, 
the  more  he  became  anxious  to  pursue  his  investiga- 
tions all  over  the  countrj'.  He  proceeded  upon  tours 
into  several  counties,  and  the  scenes  of  misery  which 
came  under  his  notice  were  truly  deplorable.  At 
Salisbury,  just  without  the  prison  gate,  was  a  chain 
passed  through  a  round  staple  fixed  in  the  wall,  at 
each  end  of  which  a  debtor,  padlocked  by  the  leg, 
stood  offering  to  those  who  passed  by,  nets,  laces, 
purses,  kc,  made  in  the  prison.  At  Winchester,  Mr. 
Howard  saw  a  destructive  dungeon  for  felons,  eleven 
steps  under  ground,  dark,  damp,  and  close.  The 
surgeon  of  the  jail  informed  him  that  in  this,  twenty 
prisoners  had  died  of  the  jail  fever  in  one  year.  One 
of  the  places  which  Mr.  Howard  inspected  in  the 
VI.— 19 


218  JOHN     HOWARD. 

course  of  his  journey,  was  the  bridewell  of  Surry,  at 
Guilford,  in  which  he  found  neither  bedding,  straw, 
nor  work.  Soon  after  his  return  from  making  inves- 
tigations into  the  condition  of  these  abodes  of  vice 
and  misery,  he  was  examined  before  a  committee  of 
the  house  of  commons,  touching  the  knowledge  he 
had  thus  acquired ;  and,  being  called  to  the  bar,  the 
speaker  acquainted  him  that  the  house  was  very  sen- 
sible of  the  humanity  and  zeal  which  had  led  him  to 
visit  the  several  jails  of  this  kingdom,  and  conveyed  to 
him  the  grateful  thanks  of  the  house  and  the  country 
for  his  benevolent  exertions  in  behalf  of  the  most 
de.'ititute  and  outcast  members  of  this  community. 

Mr.  Howard  continued,  throughout  the  year  1773-74, 
to  inspect  the  prisons  and  bridewells  of  England,  and, 
on  one  occasion,  3xtended  his  tour  of  philanthropy 
into  Scotland  and  Ireland.  In  1775,  he  proceeded  to 
the  continent,  for  the  purpose  of  examining  the  jails 
in  France,  Holland,  and  part  of  Flanders,  Germany, 
and  Switzerland,  most  of  which  he  found  under  better 
management  than  those  in  Great  Britain.  He  was 
particularly  pleased  with  the  prisons  of  Holland, 
whjch  presented  a  model,  that,  except  in  a  few  points, 
he  wished  to  have  seen  adopted  in  England,  and 
every  nation  on  the  globe.  He  found  a  good  deal  to 
interest  him  in  Germany. '  In  the  towns  in  that 
country,  he  frequently  saw  the  doors  of  sundry  rooms 
in  the  prisons  marked,  Ethiopia,  India,  Italy,  France, 
England,  &c.  On  inquiring  what  such  words  meant, 
he  was  informed  that  in  these  rooms,  parents,  by 
the  authority  of  the  magistrates,  confined  their  disso- 
lute children,  answering,  in  the  mean  while,  to  the 


JOHN    HOWARD.  219 

inquiries  which  might  be  made  after  them,  that  they 
were  gone  to  whatever  country  might  be  written  upon 
the  place  of  their  confinement. 

In  travelling,  Howard  lived  in  the  plainest  manner; 
generally  carrying  along  with  his  luggage  a  tea-kcllle 
and  other  utensils,  as  well  as  the  materials  for  mak- 
ing tea,  of  which  he  was  fond,  for  its  simple  exhilar- 
ating qualities.  At  the  inns,  however,  he  generally 
ordered  the  best  victuals  and  wines,  so  that  there 
might  be  no  complaint  as  to  his  stinginess ;  but  these 
luxuries  he  seldom  tasted.  When  he  considered 
himself  ill-treated  by  postilions,  he  punished  them  by 
withholding  extra  fees ;  but,  to  show  that  he  did  not 
do  so  for  the  purpose  of  saving  money,  he  sent  his 
servant  to  gather  the  poor  of  the  place,  and,  in  the 
presence  of  the  postilion,  distributed  among  them  the 
sum  he  would  have  paid.  These  traits  of  character 
becoming  Avidely  known,  he  was  generally  carefully 
attended  to  wherever  he  travelled. 

On  one  occasion,  he  happened  to  visit  a  monastery 
at  Prague,  where  he  found  the  inmates  feasting  on  a 
day  which  ought  to  have  been  devoted  to  abstinence. 
He  was  so  much  displeased  with  this  breach  of  disci- 
pline, that  he  threatened  to  proceed  to  Rome  to  inform 
the  Pope  ;  and  it  was  only  after  tho  monks  had  made 
the  most  humiliating  apology,  and  expressed  their 
contrition,  that  he  promised  to  be  silent  on  the  subject 
to  the  head  of  their  church.  In  1781,  he  again 
departed  from  England  on  a  tour  of  philanthropy,  in 
order  to  proceed  through  Denmark,  Sweden,  Russia, 
and  Poland,  and  some  other  countries  in  the  north  of 
Europe,    with    the    view   of  inspecting   the    prisons 


220  JOHN    IIOV/ARD. 

and  hospitals  on  his  route.  Copenhagen,  Stockhohn, 
Petersburg,  and  Moscow  were  respectively  visited, 
and  in  each  he  collected  valuable  information  on  the 
state  of  the  common  jails,  and  modes  of  punishment. 

Having  thus  visited  every  state  of  Europe,  whence 
he  could  hope  to  derive  assistance  for  the  completion 
of  the  great  design  which  animated  him,  except  the 
two  southern  kingdoms  of  Spain  and  Portugal,  he 
next  directed  his  course  thither,  and  on  this  journey 
visited  the  prisons  of  Madrid,  Lisbon,  and  other 
populous  towns.  This  tour  being  completed,  he 
returned  to  England,  and  finished  his  fourth  general 
inspection  of  the  English  jails,  preparatory  to  the 
publication  of  a  second  edition  of  his  Appendix  to  the 
State  of  Prisons,  a  work  he  had  sometime  before 
given  to  the  public.  When  these  journeys  were 
finished,  he  summed  up  the  number  of  miles  Avhich, 
in  less  than  ten  years,  he  had  travelled  in  his  OAvn 
country  and  abroad,  on  the  reform  of  prisons,  bride- 
wells, and  hospitals,  and  found  that  they  formed  a 
total  of  forty-two  thousand  and  thirty-three. 

When,  in  the  spring  of  1784,  Howard  had  laid 
before  the  public  the  result  of  his  minute  inspection 
of  the  prisons,  and  many  of  the  hospitals  of  his  own 
country,  and  of  the  principal  states  of  Europe,  he 
retired  to  his  estate  at  Cardington,  in  whose  calm 
seclusion  he  purposed  to  spend  the  remaining  years 
of  his  existence.  He  had  now  nothing  to  embitter  his 
peace  but  the  conduct  of  his  son,  who,  having  been 
sent  to  the  University  of  Edinburgh,  and  placed  under 
the  care  of  the  venerable  Dr.  Blacklock,  unhappily 
contracted   habits    of  dissipation    and    extravagance, 


JOHN    HOWARD.  221 

which  were  his  own  ruin,  and  well-nigh  broke  his 
father's  heart. 

After  having  devoted  more  than  eleven  years  of  his 
valuable  existence  to  the  reformation  of  the  jails,  and 
the  improvement  of  the  hospitals  of  his  own  country, 
as  well  as  those  of  foreign  states,  he  determined  again 
to  quit  his  home  on  a  journey  of  benevolence,  more 
important  to  the  interests  of  the  human  race,  though 
fraught  with  greater  danger  to  himself,  than  any  he 
had  yet  undertaken.  His  plan  was  indeed  the  most 
humane  and  beneficent  that  ever  entered  into  the 
mind  of  man,  for  it  was  to  check  the  progress  of 
devouring  pestilence,  be  inspecting  the  condition  of 
the  principal  lazarettos  in  Europe,  and,  if  possible, 
to  throw  light  on  the  origin  of  that  dreadful  scourge 
of  mankind — the  plague.  On  this  tour  of  mercy,  he 
visited  the  Italian  states,  and  from  thence  passed  by 
sea  to  Turkey,  in  which  country  he  examined  the 
hospitals  and  prisons  of  Constantinople,  Smyrna,  and 
other  places.  While  on  this  expedition,  being  at  sea, 
the  vessel  was  attacked  by  a  Moorish  privateer.  In 
the  engagement  which  took  place,  he  fought  with 
great  bravery,  and  aided  in  repelling  the  attack  of  the 
barbarians.  When  he  arrived  in  Venice,  he  sub- 
mitted, with  the  crew  of  the  vessel,  to  the  most 
shocking  privations  in  a  loathsome  lazaretto,  in  order 
to  acquire  knowledge  of  the  management  of  those 
supposed  to  be  laboring  under  plague.  In  all  these 
trials  his  cheerfulness  never  forsook  him.  Being 
liberated  in  due  course  of  time,  he  returned  to  Eng- 
land, and  resumed  his  inspection  of  the  town  and 
county  jails  and  bridewells.  It  is  mentioned  that  he 
19* 


222  JOHN    HO^VARD. 

frequently  exercised  his  liberality  in  relieving  poor 
debtors  from  confinement,  by  paying-  their  debts.  "  I 
have  often  seen  him  come  to  his  lodgings,"  says  the 
journal  of  his  attendant  in  most  of  his  tours,  "  in  such 
spirits  and  joy,  Avhen  he  Avould  say  to  me,  '  I  have 
made  a  poor  woman  happy  ;  I  have  sent  her  husband 
home  to  her  and  her  children.' "  He  was  exceedingly 
methodical  in  spending  his  time.  He  generally 
declined  every  invitation  to  dinner  or  to  supper  whilst 
on  his  tours ;  abstained  from  visiting  every  object  of 
curiosity,  however  attractive,  and  even  from  looking 
mto  a  newspaper,  lest  his  attention  should  be  diverted 
from  the  grand  purpose  in  which  he  was  engaged. 

In  1789-90,  Howard  again  proceeded  on  a  journey — 
which  was  the  seventh  and  last — to  the  continent,  to 
reexamine  the  prisons  and  hospitals  of  Holland,  part 
of  Germany,  Prussia,  and  Russia.  His  plan  was 
to  have  spent  three  years  abroad.  One  object  of  his 
pursuit,  and  perhaps  the  principal  one,  was  to  obtain 
further  information  respecting  the  plague,  by  extend 
ing  his  visits  to  those  parts  of  the  world  in  which  it 
rages  with  the  greatest  virulence',  and  on  some  of 
whose  infectious  coasts  it  is  supposed  to  take  its  rise. 
As  soon  as  he  had  resolved  to  undertake  this  hazard- 
ous journey,  he  became  impressed  with  the  belief  that 
it  would  be  his  last ;  and  when  he  to.ok  leave  of  one 
and  another  of  his  friends,  he  did  it  as  one  whose  face 
they  would  see  no  more  on  this  side  of  the  grave. 
These  feelings  were  sadly  verified.  The  benevolent 
Howard  penetrated,  in  his  journey,  into  the  deserts  of 
Tartary,  to  the  confines  of  the  Euxine  Sea,  every- 
where examining  the  prisons  and  hospitals,  and  doing 


JOHN    HOWARD.  223 

all  in  his  power  to  alleviate  the  sufferings  of  the 
inmates.  At  Cherson,  in  the  distant  region  of  Rus- 
sian Tartary,  his  visits  to  the  infectious  hospitals 
brought  upon  him  the  attacks  of  a  severe  fever — a 
species  of  plague — under  which  his  constitution  gave 
way.  Every  attention  Avas  paid  to  him  by  the 
authorities,  but  nothing  could  save  his  life,  which  he 
gave  up,  with  pious  resignation  and  hope,  on  the 
morning  of  the  20th  of  January,  1790. 

Thus  died  one  of  the  brightest  ornaments  of  Eng- 
lish biography;  a  person  whose  name  is  associated 
with  all  that  is  virtuous  and  benevolent,  and  who 
will  be  remembered,  with  feelings  of  admiration  and 
respect,  for  numberless  ages,  in  every  part  of  the 
civilized  Avorld. 


-J-J- 


Slfe 


I.CSf^C'-o 


•Q 


JENNER. 

Edwakd  Jenner  was  bom  in  1749,  at  Berkeley,  in 
(rloucestershire,  England,  of  which  his  father  was 
vicar.  He  was  educated  at  Cirencester,  and  appren- 
ticed to  Mr.  Ludlow,  a  surgeon  at  Sudbury.  At  the 
conclusion  of  his  apprenticeship,  he  went  to  London 
and  became  a  pupil  of  John  Hunter,  with  whom  he 
resided  for  two  years,  while  studying  medicine  at  St. 
George's  hospital,  and  with  whom  his  philosophical 
habits  of  mind  and  his  love  of  natural  history  pro- 
cured him  an  intimate  and  lasting  friendship.  In 
1773,  he  returned  to  his  native  village,  and  practised 
as  a    surgeon    and    apothecary   till    1792,   when   he 


JENNEll.  225 

determined  to  confine  himself  to  medicine,  and 
obtained  the  degree  of  M.  D.,  at  St.  Andrew's  Uni- 
versity. 

The  history  of  Dr.  Jenner's  professional  life  is 
embodied  in  that  of  vaccination.  While  at  Sudbury, 
he  was  surprised  one  day  at  hearing  a  country  woman 
say  she  could  not  take  the  small-pox,  because  she  had 
had  the  cow-pox ;  and,  upon  inquiry,  he  learned  that  it 
was  a  popular  notion  in  that  district,  that  milkers  who 
had  been  infected  with  a  peculiar  eruption,  which 
sometimes  occurred  on  the  udder  of  the  cow,  were  com- 
pletely secure  against  the  small-pox.  The  medical 
men  of  the  district  told  him  that  the  security  which  it 
gave  was  not  perfect ;  they  had  long  known  the 
opinion,  and  it  had  been  communicated  to  Sir  George 
Baker,  but  he  neglected  it  as  a  popular  error. 

Jenner,  during  his  pupilage,  repeatedly  mentioned 
the  facts,  which  had  from  the  first  made  a  deep 
impression  vipon  him,  to  John  Hunter;  but  even  he 
disregarded  them,  and  all  to  whom  the  subject  was 
broached,  either  slighted  or  ridiculed  it.  Jenner, 
however,  still  pursued  it.  He  found,  when  in  practice 
at  Berkeley,  that  there  were  some  persons  to  whom  it 
was  impossible  to  give  small-pox  by  inoculation,  and 
that  all  these  had  had  cow-pox;  but  that  there  were 
others  who  had  experienced  it,  and  who  yet  received 
small-pox.  This,  after  much  labor,  led  him  to  the 
discovery  that  the  cow  was  subject  to  a  variety  of 
eruptions,  of  which  one  only  had  the  power  of  guard- 
ing from  small-pox,  and  that  this,  which  he  called  the 
true  cow-pox,  could  be  eflfectually  communicated  to  the 
milkers  at  only  one  period  of  its  course. 

0 


''26  JENNEH. 

It  was  about  the  year  17S0,  that  the  idea  first  struck 
him  that  it  might  be  possible  to  propagate  the  cow-pox, 
first  from  the  cow  to  the  human  body,  and  thence 
from  one  person  to  another.  In  1788,  he  carried  a 
drawing  of  the  casual  disease,  as  seen  on  the  hands 
of  milkers,  to  London,  and  showed  it  to  Hunter,  Cline 
and  others ;  but  still,  none  would  either  assist  or 
encourage  him  ;  scepticism  or  ridicule  met  him  every- 
where, and  it  was  not  till  1796,  that  he  made  the 
decisive  experiment.  On  the  14lh  of  May,  a  day  still 
commemorated  by  an  annual  festival  at  Berlin,  a  boy, 
aged  eight  years,  was  vaccinated  with  matter  takgn 
from  the  hands  of  a  milkmaid ;  he  passed  through  the 
disorder  in  a  satisfactory  manner,  and  was  inoculated 
for  small-pox  on  the  1st  July  following,  without  the 
least  effect. 

Jenner  then  entered  upon  an  extensiv^e  series  of 
experiments  of  the  same  kind,  and,  in  1798,  published 
his  first  memoir,  "  An  Inquiry  into  the  Causes  and 
Effects  of  the  Variolse  Vaccinae."  It  excited  the  greatest 
interest,  for  the  evidence  in  it  seemed  conclusive ;  yet 
the  practice  met  with  opposition  as  severe  as  it  was 
tinfair,  and  its  success  seemed  uncertain  till  a  year 
had  passed,  when  upwards  of  seventy  of  the  principal 
physicians  and  surgeons  in  London  signed  a  declara- 
tion of  their  entire  confidence  in  it.  An  attempt  was 
then  made  to  deprive  Jenner  of  the  merit  of  his  dis 
covery,  but  it  signally  failed,  and  scientific  honors 
were  bestowed  upon  him  from  all  quarters.  Nothing, 
however,  could  induce  him  to  leave  his  native  village, 
and  all  his  correspondence  shows  that  th.e  pures* 
benevolence,    rather    than     imbition,    had   been    the 


JENNEE. 


227 


motive  which  actuated  his  labors.  "  Shall  I,"  said  he 
ill  a  letter  to  a  friend,  "who,  even  in  the  morn-ing  of 
my  life,  sought  the  lowly  and  sequestered  paths  of 
lif»,  the  valley  and  not  the  mountain, — shall  I,  now 
my  evening  is  fast  approaching,  hold  myself  up  as  an 
object  for  fortune  and  for  fame  ?  My  fortune,  with 
what  flows  in  from  my  profession,  is  amply  sufficient 
to  gratify  my  wishes." 

Till  the  last  day  of  his  life,  which  terminated  sud- 
denly in  1S23,  he  was  occupied  in  the  most  anxious 
labors  to  diffuse  the  advantages  of  his  discovery  both 
at  home  and  abroad ;  and  he  had  the  satisfaction  of 
knowing  that  vaccination  had  even  then  shed  its 
blessings  over  every  civilized  nation  of  the  world, 
prolonging  life,  and  preventing  the  ravages  of  the 
most  terrible  scourge  to  which  the  human  race  was 
subject. 

Jenner's  other  works  all  evince  the  same  patient 
and  philosophic  spirit  which  led  him  to  his  great  dis- 
covery. The  chief  of  them  was  a  paper,  "On  the 
Natural  History  of  the  Cuckoo,"  in  which  he  first 
described  that  bird's  habit  of  laying  its  eggs  singly  in 
the  nests  of  smaller  species,  to  whom  it  leaves  the 
office  of  incubation  and  of  rearing  the  young  one, 
which,  Avhen  a  few  days  old,  acquires  the  sole  pos- 
session of  the  nest  by  the  expulsion  of  its  rightful 
occupants. 

The  life  of  Jenner  is  not  without  its  moral.  The 
history  of  his  great  discovery  affords  a  striking 
instance  of  the  difficulties  Avhich  often  attend  the  pro- 
mulgation of  truth,  even  though  it  may  be  of  the 
greatest  consequence  to  mankind  ;  and  it  also  shows 


22S  JENNER. 

how  much  good  one  individual  may  accomplish.  The 
small-pox  had  been  for  ages  the  great  dread  of  man- 
kind. It  is  a  matter  of  dispute  whether  it  Avas 
known  to  the  ancients ;  the  earliest  writer  who 
expressly  treated  of  it,  was  Rhazes,  an  Arabian 
physician,  who  died  A.  D.  932.  He,  however,  con- 
founded it  with  measles,  and  the  two  diseases  were 
considered  as  identical,  till  the  time  of  Sydenham, 
1660.  But  whatever  obscurity  may  rest  on  the  origin 
and  the  early  history  of  small-pox,  prior  to  Jenner's 
discovery  it  had  become  one  of  the  most  formidable 
diseases  which  had  ever  afflicted  mankind.  It  spread 
itself  to  all  quarters  of  the  globe,  and  has  often  been 
known  to  depopulate  whole  districts.  It  was  espe- 
cially fatal  to  the  poor.  The  Europeans  brought  it  to 
America,  and  its  ravages  among  the  ignorant  natives 
were  almost  as  fatal  as  the  sword. 

The  terrors  of  the  disease  had  been  in  some  degree 
mitigated,  by  the  discovery  that  it  could  be  had  but 
once,  and  that  it  was  of  a  milder  nature  if  taken  by 
artificial  inoculation.  This  practice  had  prevailed 
in  Turkey,  especially  among  females,  for  the  preser- 
vation of  the  beauty  of  young  girls.  The  celebrated 
lady  Montague,  who  accompanied  her  husband  to 
Constantinople,  where  he  was  the  ambassador  of 
England  in  1716,  observed  the  custom,  and  on  her 
return,  first  introduced  it  into  the  western  part  of 
Europe.  The  practice  met  with  the  greatest  opposi- 
tion, especially  among  the  ignorant,  but  it  finally 
overspread  the  enlightened  classes  of  Christendom. 

The  fatality  of  this  disease  may  be  ascertained  by 


JENNER.  229 

the  returns  of  the  hospitals.  Here  thirty  per  cent, 
of  those  attacked  without  inoculation,  have  been 
found  to  die,  and  this  under  every  favorable  circum- 
stance, and  with  the  best  medical  treatment.  It  was 
much  more  destructive  in  ordinary  cases.  Even  with 
the  mitigation  aflbrded  by  inoculation,  it  continued 
to  be  one  of  the  scourges  of  mankind.  The  impor- 
tance of  Dr.  Jenner's  discovery  may  be  estimated, 
when  it  is  stated,  that  very  few  persons,  after  being 
vaccinated,  can  take  the  small-pox,  and  of  those  who 
do,  not  more  than  one  case  in  four  hundred  and  fifty, 
proves  mortal ! 

Yet,  this  discovery,  which  has  done  more  to  pro- 
long life  than  all  other  medical  improvements  for  a 
hundred  years  preceding,  met  with  ridicule  at  the 
outset,  and  the  most  determined  opposition  in  later 
times.  As  there  is  a  class  of  persons — even  among 
the  intelligent — w'ho  are  unduly  credulous,  so  there 
is  another  class  who  are  as  unreasonably  skeptical ;  and 
the  latter  are  commonly  those  who  pretend  to  unusual 
wisdom.  These  are  found,  by  a  sort  of  instinct,  to 
resist  what  is  new,  and  to  condemn  it  without 
examination,  only  because  of  its  novelty.  Among 
the  ignorant,  there  are  multitudes  who  are  ready  to 
swallow  the  most  egregious  impositions  if  offered  by 
a  quack,  who  yet  resist  the  greatest  benefits  if  they 
come  from  the  hands  of  science. 

In  its  early  stages,  vaccination  had  to  contend  with 

these  sources  of  opposition.     For  several  years  it  was 

rejected  by  the  mass,  and,  even  in  Boston,  several 

eminent  physicians  lost  their  standing  with  a  large 

VI.— 20 


230 


JENNER. 


share  of  the  community,  in  their  attempts  to  intro- 
duce it.  Happily,  these  prejudices  have  subsided, 
and  the  great  plague  of  the  world  has  quailed  before 
the  magic  wand  of  science,  wielded  by  the  hand  of 
benevolence. 


|t;^};,y, ,?,  -0,  .0, 5?, ,%  .y,  -9,5 


tv^.  '.♦. ,».  .♦. .»  »■ .»_  .*-:^ 


JOHN  FREDERICK  OBERLIN 

Was  a  native  of  Strasbourg,  and,  after  being  edu- 
cated as  a  Lutheran  clergyman,  was  appointed,  in 
1767,  when  twenty-seven  years  of  age,  to  the  cure  of 
Waldbach,  in  the  Ban  de  la  Roche,  a  high  and  sterile 
valley  in  Alsace.  His  mind  was  animated  with  the 
most  ardent  desire  of  usefulness,  not  only  in  his  pro- 
fession, but  in  many  other  respects ;  and  greatly  did 
his  parish  need  the  attentions  of  such  a  philanthropist. 
The  whole  valley  afforded  subsistence,  and  that  of 
the  most  Avretched  kind,  for  only  about  a  hundred 
families,  who  were  a  race  of  rude  and  ignorant  rustics, 


232  OBERLIN. 

cut  off  by  their  peculiar  dialect,  as  well  as  by  the 
inaccessibility  of  their  situation,  from  all  the  rest  of 
mankind.  The  husbandmen  were  destitute  of  the 
commonest  implements,  and  had  no  means  of  procur- 
ing' them;  they  had  no  knowledge  of  agriculture, 
beyond  the  routine  practices  of  their  forefathers  ;  they 
were  ground  down  and  irritated  by  a  hateful  feudal 
service.  He  devoted  himself  to  the  correction  of  these 
evils,  at  the  same  time  that  he  labored  in  his  spiritual 
,  vocation. 

The  people,  at  first,  did  not  comprehend  his  plans, 
or  appreciate  his  motives.  Ignorance  is  always  sus- 
picious. They  resolved,  with  the  dogged  pertinacity 
with  which  the  uneducated  of  all  ranks  cling  to  the 
rubbish  of  old  customs,  not  to  submit  to  innovation. 
The  peasants  agreed,  on  one  occasion,  to  waylay  and 
beat  him,  and  on  another,  to  duck  him  in  a  cistern. 
He  boldly  confronted  them,  and  subdued  their  hearts 
by  his  courageous  mildness.  But  he  did  more ;  he 
gave  up  exhorting  the  people  to  pursue  their  real 
interests  ;  he  practically  showed  them  the  vast  benefits 
which  competent  knowledge  and  well-directed  indus- 
try would  procure  for  them.  These  mountaineers  in 
many  respects  Avere  barbarians ;  and  he  resolved  to 
civilize  them,  as  all  savages  are  civilized,  by  bringing 
them  into  contact  with  more  enlightened  communities. 

The  Ban  de  la  Roche  had  no  roads.  The  few 
passes  in  the  mountains  were  constantly  broken  up  by 
the  torrents,  or  obstructed  by  the  loosened  earth  which 
fell  from  the  overhanging  rocks.  The  river  Bruche, 
which  flows  through  the  canton,  had  no  bridge  but 
one  of  stepping-stones.     Within  a  feAV  miles  of  this 


03ERLIN.  233 

isolated  district  was  Strasbourg,  abounding  in  wealth 
and  knowledge,  and  all  the  refinements  of  civilization. 
He  determined  to  open  a  regular  communication 
between  the  Ban  de  la  Roche  and  that  city ;  to  find 
there  a  market  for  the  produce  of  his  own  district,  and 
to  bring  thence  in  exchange  new  comforts  and  new 
means  of  improvement.  He  assembled  the  people, 
explained  his  objects,  and  proposed  that  they  should 
blast  the  rocks  to  make  a  Avail,  a  mile  and  a  half  in 
length,  to  support  a  road  by  the  side  of  the  river,  over 
which  a  bridge  must  also  be  made.  The  peasants, 
one  and  all,  declared  the  thing  was  impossible ;  and 
every  one  excused  himself  from  engaging  in  such  an 
unreasonable  scheme.  Oberlin  exhorted  them,  rea- 
soned with  them,  appealed  to  them  as  husbands  and 
fathers — ^but  in  vain. 

He  at  last  threw  a  pickaxe  upon  his  shoulder,  and 
went  to  work  himself,  assisted  by  a  trusty  servant. 
He  had  soon  the  support  of  fellow-laborers.  He 
regarded  not  the  thorns  by  which  his  hands  were 
torn,  nor  the  loose  stones  which  fell  from  the  rocks 
and  bruised  them.  His  heart  was  in  the  work,  and 
no  difficulty  could  stop  him.  He  devoted  his  own 
little  property  to  the  undertaking ;  he  raised  subscrip- 
tions amongst  his  old  friends  ;  tools  Avere  bought  for 
ail  who  were  willing  to  use  them.  On  the  Sunday 
the  good  pastor  labored  in  his  calling  as  a  teacher  of 
sacred  truths ;  but  on  the  Monday,  he  rose  with  the 
sun  to  his  work  of  practical  benevolence,  and,  march- 
ing at  the  head  of  two  hundred  of  his  flock,  went  with 
renewed  vigor  to  his  conquest  over  the  natural  obsta- 
cles to  the  civilization  of  the  district.  In  three  years 
20* 


234  OBERLIN. 

the  road  was  finished,  the  bridge  was  built,  and  the 
communication  with  Strasbourg  was  established.  The 
ordinary  results  of  intercourse  between  a  poor  and  a 
wealthy,  a  rude  and  an  intelligent  community,  were 
soon  felt.  The  people  of  the  Ban  de  la  Roche 
obtained  tools,  and  Oberlin  taught  their  young  men 
the  necessity  of  learning  other  trades  besides  that  of 
cultivating  the  earth.  He  apprenticed  the  boys  to 
carpenters,  masons,  glaziers,  blacksmiths,  and  cart- 
wrights,  at  Strasbourg.  In  a  few  years,  these  arts, 
which  were  wholly  unknown  to  the  district,  began  to 
flourish.  The  tools  were  kept  in  good  order,  wheel- 
carriages  became  common,  the  wretched  cabins  were 
converted  into  snug  cottages  ;  the  people  felt  the  value 
of  these  great  changes,  and  they  began  to  regard  their 
pastor  with  unbounded  reverence. 

Oberlin,  however,  had  still  some  prejudices  to  en- 
counter in  carrying  forward  the  education  of  this  rude 
population.  He  desired  to  teach  them  better  modes 
of  cultivating  their  sterile  soil ;  but  they  would  not 
listen  to  him.  "  What,"  said  they,  Avith  the  common 
prejudice  of  all  agricultural  people  in  secluded  dis- 
tricts,— "  what  could  he  know  of  crops,  who  had  been 
bred  in  a  town?"  It  was  useless  to  reason  with 
them ;  he  instructed  them  by  example.  He  had  two 
large  gardens  near  his  parsonage,  crossed  by  footpaths. 
The  soil  was  exceedingly  poor ;  but  he  trenched  and 
manured  the  ground,  with  a  thorough  knowledge  of 
what  he  was  about,  and  planted  it  with  fruit  trees. 
The  trees  flourished,  to  the  great  astonishment  of  the 
peasants ;  and  they  at  length  entreated  their  pastor  to 
tell  them  his  secret.     He  explained  his  system,  and 


OBERLIN.  235 

gave  them  slips  out  of  his  nursery.  Planting  and 
grafting  soon  became  the  taste  of  the  district,  and  in  a 
few  years  the  bare  and  desolate  cottages  were  sur- 
rounded by  smiling  orchards.  The  potatoes  of  the 
canton,  the  chief  food  of  the  people,  had  so  degene- 
rated, that  the  fields  yielded  the  most  scanty  produce. 
The  peasants  maintained  that  the  ground  was  in  fault ; 
Oberlin,  on  the  contrary,  procured  new  seed.  The 
soil  of  the  mountains  was  really  peculiarly  favorable 
to  the  cultivation  of  this  root,  and  the  good  minister's 
crop  of  course  succeeded.  The  force  of  example  was 
again  felt,  and  abundance  of  potatoes  soon  returned  to 
the  canton. 

In  like  manner,  Oberlin  introduced  the  culture  of 
Dutch  clover  and  flax,  and  at  length  overcame  the 
most  obstinate  prejudice,  in  converting  unprofitable 
pastures  into  arable  land.  Like  all  agricultural  im- 
provers, he  taught  the  people  the  value  of  manure,  and 
the  best  modes  of  reducing  every  substance  into  useful 
compost.  The  maxim  which  he  incessantly  repeated 
was,  "let  nothing  be  lost."  He  established  an  agri- 
cultural society,  and  founded  prizes  for  the  most  skil- 
ful fanners.  In  ten  years  from  his  acceptance  of  the 
pastoral  office  in  the  Ban  de  la  Roche,  he  had  opened 
communications  between  each  of  the  five  parishes  of 
the  canton,  and  with  Strasbourg,  introduced  some  of 
the  most  useful  arts  into  a  district  where  they  had 
been  utterly  neglected,  and  raised  the  agriculture  of 
these  poor  mountaineers  from  a  barbarous  tradition 
into  a  practical  science.  Such  were  some  of  the 
effects  of  education  in  the  most  comprehensive  sense 
of  the  word. 


286  OBERLIN. 

The  instruction  which  Oberlin  afforded  to  the  adults 
of  his  canton  was  only  just  as  much  as  was  necessary 
to  remove  the  most  pressing  evils  of  their  outward 
condition,  and  to  impress  them  with  a  deep  sense  of 
religious  obligation.  But  his  education  of  the  young 
had  a  wider  range.  When  he  entered  on  his  minis- 
try, the  hut  which  his  predecessor  had  built,  was  the 
only  schoolhouse  of  the  five  villages  composmg  the 
canton.  It  had  been  constructed  of  unseasoned  logs, 
and  was  soon  in  a  ruinous  condition.  The  people, 
however,  would  not  hear  of  a  new  building ;  the  log- 
house  had  answered  very  well,  and  was  good  enough 
for  their  time.  Oberlin  was  not  to  be  so  deterred 
from  the  pursuit  of  his  benevolent  wishes.  He  applied 
to  his  friends  at  Strasbourg,  and  took  upon  himself  a 
heavy  pecuniary  responsibility.  A  new  building  was 
soon  completed  at  Waldbach,  and  in  a  few  years  the 
inhabitants  in  the  other  four  parishes  came  voluntarily 
forward,  to  build  a  schoolhouse  in  each  of  the  villages. 
Oberlin  engaged  zealously  in  the  preparation  of  mas- 
ters for  these  establishments,  which  were  to  receive 
all  the  children  of  the  district  when  of  a  proper  age. 

But  he  also  carried  the  principle  of  education  far- 
ther than  it  had  ever  before  gone  in  any  country.  He 
was  the  founder  of  infant  schools.  He  saw  that, 
almost  from  the  cradle,  children  were  capable  of 
instruction ;  that  evil  habits  began  much  earlier  than 
the  world  had  been  accustomed  to  believe ;  and  that 
the  facility  with  which  mature  education  might  be 
conducted,  greatly  depended  upon  the  impressions 
which  the  reason  and  the  imagination  of  infants  might 
receive.    He  appointed  conductrices  in  each  commune. 


OBERLIN.  237 

paid  at  his  own  expense ;  and  established  rooms, 
vvhere  children  from  two  to  six  years  old  might  be 
instructed  and  amused ;  and  he  thus  gave  the  model 
of  those  beautiful  institutions  which  have  first  shown 
us  how  the  happiness  of  a  child  may  be  associated 
with  its  improvement,  and  how  knowledge,  and  the 
discipline  which  leads  to  knowledge,  are  not  necessa- 
rily 

"Harsh  and  crabbed,  as  dull  fools  suppose." 

The  children  in  these  little  establishments  were  not 
kept  "  from  morn  till  noon,  from  noon  till  dewy  eve," 
over  the  horn-book  and  primer.  They  learnt  to  knit, 
and  sew,  and  spin ;  and  when  they  were  weary,  they 
had  pictures  to  look  at,  and  maps,  engraved  on  wood, 
for  their  special  use,  of  their  own  canton,  of  Alsace, 
of  France,  and  of  Europe.  They  sang  songs  and 
hymns ;  and  they  were  never  suffered  to  speak  a 
word  of  patois. 

When  the  children  of  the  Ban  de  la  Eoche — the  cnil- 
dren  of  peasants,  be  it  remembered,  who,  a  few  years 
before  the  blessing  of  such  a  pastor  as  Oberlin  was 
bestowed  upon  them,  were  not  only  steeped  to  the 
lips  in  poverty,  but  were  groping  in  that  darkness 
of  the  understanding  which  too  often  accompanies 
extreme  indigence — when  these  children  were  re- 
moved to  the  higher  schools,  which  possessed  the 
most  limited  funds,  they  Avere  taught  reading,  writing, 
arithmetic,  geography,  astronomy,  sacred  and  profane 
history,  agriculture,  natural  history,  especially  botany, 
natural  philosophy,  music,  and  drawing.  Oberlin 
reserved  for  himself,  almost  exclusively,  the  religious 


U,2S  OBERLIN. 

instruction  of  this  large  family ;  and  he  established  a 
weekly  meeting  of  all  the  scholars  at  Waldbach. 
The  inhabitants  of  Strasbourg  and  of  the  neighboring 
towns  from  which  the  Ban  de  la  Roche  had  been 
recently  cut  off,  came  to  look  upon  the  wonders  which 
one  man  had  effected.  Subscriptions  poured  in  upon 
the  disinterested  pastor ;  endowments  were  added. 
Well  did  he  use  this  assistance.  He  founded  a  valu- 
able library  for  the  use  of  the  children ;  he  printed  a 
number  of  the  best  school-books  for  their  particular 
instruction;  he  made  a  collection  of  philosophical  and 
mathematical  instruments ;  and  established  prizes  for 
masters  and  scholars. 

Thus  did  this  extraordinary  man  strive  to  raise  the 
intellectual  standard  of  his  parishioners,  whilst  he 
labored  to  preserve  the  purity  of  their  morals  and  the 
strength  of  their  piety.  Never  did  religion  present 
more  attractive  features  than  in  the  secluded  districts 
of  the  Ban  de  la  Roche.  The  love  of  God  was  con- 
stantly inculcated  as  a  rule  of  life ;  but  the  principle 
was  enforced  with  no  ascetic  desire  to  separate  it 
from  the  usefulness  and  the  enjoyment  of  existence. 
The  studies  in  which  these  poor  children  were 
trained,  contributed  as  much  to  their  happiness  as  to 
their  knowledge.  They  were  not  confined  for  years 
to  copying  large  text  and  small  hand,  to  learning  by 
rote  the  spelling-book,  to  hammering  at  the  four  rules 
of  arithmetic  without  understanding  their  principles 
or  their  more  practical  applications.  While  they  paid 
due  attention  to  these,  they  were  taught  whatever  could 
be  useful  to  them  in  their  pastoral  and  agricultural 
life,  and  whatever  could  enable  them  to  extract  hap- 


OBEELIN.  239 

piness  out  of  their  ordinary  pursuits.  They  were 
incited  to  compose  short  essays  on  the  management 
of  the  farm  and  the  orchard ;  they  were  led  into  the 
woods  to  search  for  indigenous  plants,  to  acquire  their 
names,  and  to  cultivate  them  in  their  own  little  gar- 
dens ;  they  were  instructed  in  the  delightful  art  of 
copying  these  flowers  from  nature ;  it  was  impressed 
upon  their  minds,  that,  as  they  lived  in  a  district  sep- 
arated by  mountains  from  the  rest  of  mankind,  and 
moreover  a  district  naturally  sterile,  it  was  their 
peculiar  duty  to  contribute  something  towards  the 
general  prosperity ;  and  thus,  previously  to  receiving 
religious  confirmation,  Oberlin  required  a  certificate 
that  the  young  person  had  planted  two  trees.  Trees 
were  to  be  planted,  roads  were  to  be  put  into  good 
condition,  and  ornamented,  to  please  Him  "  who 
rejoices  when  we  labor  for  the  public  good." 

Surely,  a  community  thus  trained  to  acquire  sub- 
stantial knowledge,  equally  conducive  to  individual 
happiness  and  general  utility,  were  likely  to  become 
virtuous  and  orderly  members  of  society,  contented 
in  their  stations,  respectful  to  their  superiors,  kind  to 
each  other,  hospitable  to  the  stranger,  tolerant  to  those 
who  differed  from  them  in  opinion.  Oberlin  lived 
long  enough  to  see  that  such  conduct  was  the  real 
result  of  his  wise  and  benevolent  system. 

in  1784,  Oberlin  lost  his  excellent  wife.  There 
was  a  servant  in  his  family,  an  orphan,  named  Louisa 
Schepler,  who  had  been  brought  up  in  his  schools, 
and  was  afterwards  one  of  the  conductrices  of  the 
infant  establishments.  After  being  the  nurse  of  Ober 
lin's  children  for  nine  years  following  the  death  of 


ii40  OBERLIN. 

their  mother,  this  poor  girl  Avrote  to  her  master,  to 
beg  that  she  might  be  allowed  to  serve  him  Avithout 
wages. 

"  Do  not,  I  entreat  you,"  she  says,  "give  me  any- 
more wages ;  for,  as  you  treat  me  like  your  child  in 
every  other  respect,  I  earnestly  wish  you  to  do  so  in 
this  particular  also.  Little  is  needful  for  the  support 
of  my  body.  My  shoes  and  stockings,  and  sabots, 
will  cost  something ;  but  when  I  want  them,  I  can  ask 
you  for  them,  as  a  child  applies  to  its  father." 

In  the  course  of  twenty  years,  the  population  of 
the  Ban  de  la  Roche  had  increased  to  six  times  the 
number  that  Oberlin  found  there  when  he  entered 
upon  his  charge.  The  knowledge  which  their  pastor 
imparted  to  the  people,  gave  them  also  the  means  of 
living,  and  the  increase  of  their  means  increased  their 
numbers.  The  good  minister  found  employment  for 
all.  In  addition  to  their  agricultural  pursuits,  he 
taught  the  people  straw-plaiting,  and  dyeing  with  the 
plants  of  the  country.  In  the  course  of  years,  Mr. 
Legrand,  of  Basle,  a  wealthy  and  philanthropic  manu- 
facturer, who  had  been  a  director  of  the  Helvetic 
republic,  introduced  the  weaving  of  silk  ribands  into 
the  district. 

The  people  of  the  Ban  de  la  Roche  for  eighty 
years  had  been  in  dispute  with  the  seigneurs  about  the 
rights  of  the  forest,  to  which  each  party  laid  claim. 
This  dispute  was  carried  on  sometimes  with  furious 
violence,  but  habitually  with  expensive  litigation.  In 
1813,  Oberlin  persuaded  his  flock  to  come  to  an 
accommodation,  which  should  at  the  same  time  have 
respect  to  the  claims  of  the  owners,  and  secure  a  due 


OBERLIN.  241 

portion  of  their  own  proper  privileges.  He  convinced 
them  that  this  ruinous  contest  was  the  scourge  of  the 
country,  and  that  it  was  the  duty  of  all  men  to  live  in 
peace.  The  parties  agreed  to  an  accommodation 
advantageous  to  both  sides  ;  and  the  pen  Avith  which 
the  deed  of  pacification  was  signed,  was  solemnly 
presented  to  him  by  the  mayors  of  the  canton.  It 
was  for  that  pen  to  record,  as  clearly  as  facts  can 
speak,  that  an  educated  people  are  the  truest  respect- 
ers of  the  rights  of  property ! 

Oberlin  died  in  the  year  1827,  when  he  had 
attained  a  very  great  age.  The  difficulties  which  he 
surmounted,  and  the  actual  good  which  he  did,  should 
be  a  lesson  of  encouragement  to  all.  He  doubtless 
made  great  personal  sacrifices ;  but  he  had  a  reward 
amply  compensating  his  self-denial.  In  the  fulness 
of  his  heart,  the  venerable  man,  looking  round  upon 
the  valleys  which  he  had  filled  with  the  peacefulness 
of  contented  industry,  and  upon  the  people  Avhom  he 
had  trained  to  knoAvledge,  and  to  virtue — the  best  fruit 
of  knowledge — exclaimed,  "  Yes !  I  am  happy !  "  And 
when  he  died,  he  was  followed  to  the  grave  by  an 
entire  population,  upon  whom  he,  a  poor  but  industri- 
ous and  benevolent  clergyman,  had  showered  innu- 
merable blessings. 


VI.— 21 


JOHN  GUTTENBERG. 

John  Guttenberg,  to  whom  the  honor  is  due  of 
having  invented  the  art  of  printing,  Avas  born  at  May- 
ence,  or  Mentz,  in  Germany,  in  the  year  1400.  Of 
the  early  part  of  his  life  nothing  is  now  known. 
There  is  reason  to  suppose,  however,  that  he  possessed 
a  genius  for  mechanical  pursuits,  and  was  not  defi- 
cient in  the  elements  of  literature,  as  his  professional 
avocations  sufficiently  testify.  Up  till  the  period  in 
which  he  appeared,  printing  was  unknoAvn.  All 
books  were  written  and  circulated  on  a  limited  scale 
in  manuscript,  and  were   sold   at   immensely  high 


JOHN    GTJTTENBERG.  243 

prices.  The  Chinese,  from  early  times,  had  used 
carved  stamps  to  impress  upon  paper  instead  of 
writing ;  the  Romans  likewise  used  stamps  and  seals 
in  order  to  produce  impressions  ;  but  the  idea  of  form- 
ing individual  letters  or  characters,  capable  of  being 
arranged  in  every  kind  of  combination,  does  not 
appear  to  have  occurred  to  any  of  the  ancient  nations, 
and  was  left  to  be  first  thought  of  by  the  ingenious 
Guttenberg,  in  the  early  part  of  the  fifteenth  century. 

Having  struck  out  the  grand  idea  of  forming  letters 
or  types,  wherewith  to  produce  any  given  number  of 
impressions,  and  upon  any  subject,  he  kept  the  dis- 
covery a  profound  secret,  and  removed  to  Strasburg 
about  the  year  1424.  Unfortunately  for  Guttenberg, 
he  was  poor,  and  unable,  by  his  own  efforts,  to  render 
his  discovery  practically  beneficial.  By  this  means 
he  was  led  into  many  difficulties,  and  in  some  measure 
robbed  of  the  merit  of  his  invention.  In  1435,  he 
entered  into  partnership  with  Andrew  Drozhennis,  or 
Dritzehen,  John  Riff,  and  Andrew  Heelman,  citizens 
of  Strasburg,  binding  himself  thereby  to  disclose  cer- 
tain important  secrets  connected  with  the  art  of  print- 
ing, by  which  they  should  attain  opulence. 

The  workshop  was  in  the  house  of  Dritzehen,  who 
dying  shortly  after  the  work  was  commenced,  Gutten- 
berg immediately  sent  his  servant,  Lawrence  Beildich, 
to  Nicholas,  the  brother  of  the  deceased,  and  requested 
that  no  person  might  be  admitted  into  the  workshop, 
lest  the  secret  should  be  discovered,  and  the  forms,  or 
fastened-together  types,  stolen.  But  they  had  already 
disappeared ;  and  this  fraud,  as  well  as  the  claims  of 
Nicholas  Dritzehen  to  succeed  to  his  brother's  share. 


244  JOHN    GUTTENBERG. 

produced  a  lawsuit  among  the  surviving  partners. 
Five  witnesses  were  examined  ;  and  from  the  evidence 
of  Beildich,  Guttenberg's  servant,  it  was  incontro- 
vertibly  proved  that  Guttenberg  was  the  first  who 
practised  the  art  of  printing  with  movable  types,  and 
that,  on  the  death  of  Andrew  Dritzehen,  he  had  ex- 
pressly ordered  the  forms  to  be  broken  up,  and  the 
characters  dispersed,  lest  any  one  should  discover  his 
secret.  The  result  of  this  lawsuit,  which  occurred  in 
1439,  was  a  dissolution  of  partnership ;  and  Gutten- 
berg, after  having  exhausted  his  means  in  the  effort, 
proceeded,  in  1445-6,  to  his  native  city  of  Mentz, 
where  he  resumed  his  typographic  labors. 

Being  ambitious  of  making  his  extraordinary  inven- 
tion known,  and  of  value  to  himself,  but  being  at  the 
same  time  deficient  in  the  means,  he  opened  his  mind 
to  a  wealthy  goldsmith  and  worker  in  precious  metals, 
named  John  Fust,  or  Faust,  and  prevailed  on  him  to 
advance  large  sums  of  money,  in  order  to  make  fur- 
ther and  more  complete  trials  of  the  art.  Guttenberg 
being  thus  associated  with  Fust,  the  first  regular 
printing  establishment  was  begun,  and  the  business 
of  printing  carried  on  in  a  style  corresponding  to  the 
infancy  of  the  art.  After  many  smaller  essays  in 
trying  the  capabilities  of  his  press  and  movable 
types,  Guttenberg  had  the  hardihood  to  attempt  an 
edition  of  the  Bible,  which  he  succeeded  in  printing 
complete,  between  the  years  1450  and  1455.  This 
celebrated  Bible,  which  was  the  first  important  speci- 
men of  the  art  of  printing,  and  which,  judging  from 
what  it  has  led  to,  we  should  certainly  esteem  as  the 
most  extraordinary  and  praiseworthy  of  human  pro- 


JOHN    GUTTENBERG.  245 

ductions,  was  executed  with  cut  metal  types,  on  six 
hundred  and  thirty-seven  leaves ;  and,  from  a  copy 
still  in  existence  in  the  Royal  Library  of  Berlin,  some 
of  these  appear  to  have  been  on  vellum.  The  work 
was  printed  in  the  Latin  language. 

The  execution  of  this,  the  first  printed  Bible,  which 
has  justly  conferred  undying  honors  on  the  illustrious 
Guttenberg,  was,  most  unfortunately,  the  immediate 
cause  of  his  ruin.  The  expenses  incident  to  carrying 
on  a  fatiguing  and  elaborate  process  of  workmanship, 
for  a  period  of  five  years,  being  much  more  considera- 
ble than  what  were  originally  contemplated  by  Fust, 
he  instituted  a  suit  against  poor  Guttenberg,  who,  in 
consequence  of  the  decision  against  him,  was  obliged 
to  pay  interest,  and  also  a  part  of  the  capital  that  had 
been  advanced.  This  suit  was  followed  by  a  dissolu- 
tion of  partnership ;  and  the  whole  of  Guttenberg's 
apparatus  fell  into  the  hands  of  John  Fust,  who,  from 
being  the  ostensible  agent  in  the  business  of  printing, 
and  from  the  wonder  expressed  by  the  vulgar  in  see- 
ing printed  sheets,  soon  acquired  the  name  of  a  magi- 
cian, or  one  in  compact  with  the  devil;  and  under 
this  character,  with  the  appellation  of  Dr.  Faustus,  he 
has  for  ages  enjoyed  an  evil  notoriety. 

Besides  the  above-mentioned  Bible,  some  other 
specimens  of  the  work  of  Guttenberg  have  been  dis- 
covered to  be  in  existence.  One  in  particular,  v^rhich 
is  worthy  of  notice,  was  found  some  years  ago  among 
a  bundle  of  old  papers  in  the  archives  of  Mayence. 
It  is  an  almanac  for  the  year  1457,  which  served  as 
wrapper  for  a  register  of  accounts  that  year.  This, 
says  Hansard,  would  most  likely  be  printed  towards 
21* 


246  JOHN    GUTTENEERG. 

the  close  of  1456,  and  may  consequently  be  deemed 
the  most  ancient  specimen  of  typographic  printing 
extant,  with  a  certain  date.  That  Guttenberg  was  a 
person  of  refined  taste  in  the  execution  of  his  works, 
is  sufficiently  obvious.  Adopting  a  very  ancient  cus- 
tom, common  in  the  written  copies  of  the  Scriptures 
and  the  missals  of  the  church,  he  used  a  large  orna- 
mental letter  at  the  commencement  of  books  and 
chapters,  finely  embellished,  and  surrounded  with  a 
variety  of  figures  as  in  a  frame.  The  initial  letter 
of  the  first  psalm  thus  forms  a  beautiful  specimen  of 
the  art  of  printing  in  its  early  progress.  It  is  richly 
ornamented  with  foliage,  flowers,  a  bird,  and  a  grey- 
hound, and  is  still  more  beautiful  from  being  printed 
in  a  pale  blue  color,  while  the  embellishments  are  red, 
and  of  a  transparent  appearance.  What  became  of 
Guttenberg  immediately  after  the  unsuccessful  termi- 
nation of  his  lawsuit  with  Fust,  is  not  well  known. 
Like  the  discoverer  of  the  great  Western  Continent, 
he  seems  to  have  retired  almost  broken-hearted  from 
the  world,  and  to  have  spent  most  of  the  remainder 
of  his  days  in  obscurity.  It  is  ascertained,  however, 
that  in  the  year  1465,  he  received  an  annual  pension 
from  the  Elector  Adolphus,  but  that  he  only  enjoyed 
this  small  compensation  for  his  extraordinary  inven- 
tion during  three  years,  and  died  in  the  month  of 
February,  1468. 

It  long  formed  a  subject  of  contention  amongst 
antiquaries  and  bibliomaniacs,  by  what  means  Gutten- 
berg formed  his  tj'pes,  but  it  is  now  pretty  clearly 
ascertained  that  they  Avere  at  first  all  individually  cut 
by  the  hand.     The  mode  of  castiiig  types  in  moulds 


JOHN    GUTTENBERG.  247 

has  been  very  generally,  and  witli  apparent  truth, 
assigned  to  Guttenberg's  successor,  Schocffer.  This 
individual  was  an  industrious  young  man  of  inventive 
genius,  an  apprentice  with  Fust,  who  took  him  into 
partnership  immediately  after  his  rupture  with  Gutten- 
berg,  and  who  is  supposed  to  have  been  initiated  into 
the  mysteries  of  the  art  by  the  latter.  The  first  joint 
publication  of  Fust  and  SchoefTer  was  a  beautiful  edi- 
tion of  the  Psalms,  which  came  out  only  about  eigh- 
teen months  after  their  going  into  partnership.  Along 
with  it  appeared  a  declaration  by  them,  claiming  the 
merit  of  inventing  the  cut-metal  types  with  which  it 
was  printed ;  but  this  pretension  was  evidently  false ; 
and,  in  fact,  it  afterwards  appeared  that  the  book  had 
been  four  years  in  the  press,  and  must  consequently 
have  been  chiefly  executed  by  Guttenberg.  It  is 
worthy  of  notice,  that  the  above  publication  was  the 
very  first  to  Avhich  the  date,  printer's  name,  and  place 
of  publication,  were  affixed. 

To  Schocffer,  however,  as  said  before,  must  be 
awarded  the  honor  of  completmg  Guttenberg's  inven- 
tion, by  discovering  the  method  of  casting  the  charac- 
ters in  a  matrix.  In  an  account  of  SchoefTer,  given 
by  Jo.  Frid.  Faustus,  of  Aschaffenburg,  from  papers 
preserved  in  his  family,  Ave  are  informed  that  the 
artist  privately  prepared  matrices  for  the  whole  alpha- 
bet ;  and  when  he  showed  his  master.  Fust,  the  letters 
cast  from  them,  he  was  so  well  pleased  that  he  gave 
his  daughter  Christina  to  him  in  marriage.  Fust  and 
Schoeffer  concealed  the  new  improvement,  by  admin- 
istering an  oath  of  secrecy  to  all  whom  they  entrusted, 


248  JOHN    GUTTEN-BERG. 

till  the  year  1462,  when,  by  the  dispersion  of  their 
servants  into  different  countries  at  the  sacking  of 
Mentz,  by  the  Archbishop  Adolphus,  the  invention 
was  publicly  divulged,  and  the  art  was  spread  through- 
out Europe. 


JAMES   HARGRAVES. 

The  period  at  which  the  cotton  manufacture  was 
first  introduced  into  Great  Britain  is  conjectured  to 
have  been  in  the  early  part  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury, and  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  Manchester 
was  the  first  seat  of  the  art.  As  a  source  of  commer- 
cial profit,  however,  this  species  of  trade  remained 
long  very  insignificant — the  only  mechanical  power 
employed  in  the  fabrication  of  the  yarn  being  the 
common  one-thread  spinning  wheel.  Moreover,  for 
the  period  of  a  century  at  least,  the  weft  or  transverse 
threads  of  the  web,  only,  were  cotton,  it  having  been 
found  difficult,  if  not  reckoned  impossible,  owing  to 
the  want  of  proper  machinery,  to  manufacture  cotton 
warp — that  is,  the  longitudinal  threads  of  the  web — of 
sufficient  strength  ;  and  in  place  of  which,  linen  yarn, 
principally  from  Germany  and  Ireland,  was  substi- 
tuted. The  cotton  manufacture  was  then  wholly 
conducted  on  the  system  of  cottage  industry.  Every 
weaver  was  a  master  manufacturer ;  his  cottage  was 
his  factory,  and  himself  the  sole  artisan.  He  pro- 
vided himself  with  the  weft  and  warp  as  he  best 
could,  wove  them  into  a  web,  and  disposed  of  it  at 
market  to  the  highest  bidder. 

About  1760,  merchants  in  England  began  to  employ 
weavers  to  work  up  the  prepared  material,  and  the 
business  of  exporting  cottons,  both  to  the  continent  of 
Europe  and  to  America,  began  to  be  carried  on  on  a 


250  JAMES    HAKGRAVES. 

larger  scale  than  formerly.  As  the  demand  for  the 
manufactured  article  continued  to  increase,  a  greater 
and  greater  scarcity  of  weft  was  experienced,  till,  at 
last,  although  there  were  fifty  thousand  spindles  con- 
stantly at  work  in  Lancashire  alone,  each  occupying 
an  individual  spinner,  they  were  found  quite  inade- 
quate to  supply  the  quantity  of  thread  required.  It 
may  here  be -mentioned,  that  already  the  art  of  weav- 
ing had  been  considerably  improved.  The  old  plan, 
of  throwing  the  shuttle  containing  the  weft,  from  side 
to  side  of  the  web,  by  the  hand,  was  superseded,  in 
1738,  by  a  person  of  the  name  of  John  Kay,  a  native 
of  Bury  in  Lancashire,  who  invented  a  new  method 
of  casting  the  shuttle,  by  an  extremely  simple  and 
effectual  mechanical  contrivance,  Avherein  one  hand 
of  the  weaver  did  the  work  of  both.  In  1760,  Robert 
Kay  of  Bury,  a  son  of  John,  invented  the  drop-box, 
a  contrivance  by  means  of  Avhich  a  weaver  can  at 
pleasure  use  any  one  of  the  three  shuttles  without 
stopping,  and  can  thereby  produce  a  fabric  of  various 
colors,  almost  with  the  same  facility  that  he  can 
weave  a  common  calico. 

While  the  art  of  weaving  was  thus  considerably 
improved,  the  process  of  carding  the  cotton  avooI  was 
yet  clumsy  and  expensive.  At  length,  this  also  was 
remedied.  The  first  improvement  on  carding  was 
made,  as  almost  every  improvement  in  the  cotton 
manufacture  has  been,  by  a  person  in  humble  life — 
James  Hargraves,  a  carpenter  at  Blackburn  in  Lan- 
cashire. This  illiterate,  but  most  ingenious  and 
inventive  person,  adapted  the  stock-cards  used  in  the 
woollen  manufacture  to  the  carding  of  cotton,  and 


JAMES    IIARGRAVES.  251 

greatly  improved  them.  In  consequence,  a  workman 
Avas  enabled  to  execute  about  double  the  work,  and 
with  greater  ease,  than  by  means  of  hand  cards — the 
only  instrument  previously  in  use.  Hargraves'  inven- 
tions were  soon  succeeded  by  the  cylindrical  cards,  or 
carding  machine. 

But  the  tedious  and  expensive  method  of  spinning 
by  the  hand,  was  the  grand  obstacle  in  the  way  of 
the  extension  and  improvement  of  the  manufacture. 
Insurmountable,  however,  as  this  obstacle  must,  at 
first  sight,  have  appeared,  it  was  completely  overcome 
by  the  unparalleled  ingenuity,  talent,  and  persever- 
ance of  a  few  self-taught  individuals.  Hargraves 
seems  to  have  led  the  way  in  this  career  of  discovery. 
In  1767,  he  had  constructed  a  machine  called  a  spin- 
ning-jenny,  which  enabled  a  spinner  to  spin  eight 
threads  with  the  same  facility  that  one  had  been  pre- 
viously spun;  and  the  machine  was  subsequently 
brought  to  such  perfection  as  to  enable  a  little  girl  to 
work  no  fewer  than  from  eighty  to  one  hundred 
and  tioenty  spindles !  There  are  few  individuals 
to  whom  the  manufacture  of  cotton  is  so  largely 
indebted  as  Hargraves.  It  is  true  that  his  machine 
was  of  very  inferior  powers  to  those  by  which  it  was 
immediately  followed.  But  it  is  not,  perhaps,  too 
much  to  say,  that  it  was  one  great  cause  of  their 
being  introduced.  No  sooner  had  it  been  seen  what 
a  simple  mechanical  contrivance  could  effect,  than 
the  attention  of  the  most  ingenious  individuals  was 
immediately  drawn  to  the  subject ;  and  the  path  was 
opened,  by  following  which  so  many  splendid  inven- 
tions and  discoveries  have  been  made. 


252  JAMES    HARGRAVES. 

However  much  Hargraves'  inventions  may  have 
tended  to  enrich  others,  to  himself  they  were  produc- 
tive only  of  bankruptcy  and  ruin.  The  moment  the 
intelligence  transpired  that  he  had  invented  a  ma- 
chine by  which  the  spinning  of  cotton  was  greatly 
facilitated,  an  ignorant  and  infuriated  mob,  composed 
chiefly  of  persons  engaged  in  that  employment, 
broke  into  his  house,  and  destroyed  his  machine; 
and  some  time  after,  when  experience  had  completely 
demonstrated  the  superiority  of  the  jenny,  the  mob 
again  resorted  to  violence,  and  not  only  broke  into 
Hargraves'  house,  but  into  the  houses  of  most  of 
those  who  had  adopted  his  machines,  Avhich  were 
everywhere  proscribed. 

In  consequence  of  this  persecution,  Hargraves 
removed  to  Nottingham,  where  he  took  out  a  patent 
for  his  invention.  But  he  was  not,  even  there, 
allowed  to  continue  in  the  peaceable  enjoyment  of 
his  rights.  His  patent  was  invaded,  and  he  found  it 
necessary  to  apply  to  the  courts  for  redress.  A 
numerous  association  Avas  in  consequence  formed  to 
defeat  his  efforts ;  and  being,  owing  to  a  want  of  suc- 
cess in  an  attempt  to  establish  himself  in  business, 
unable  to  contend  against  the  wealth  and  influence 
of  the  powerful  combination  arrayed  against  him,  he 
was  obliged  to  give  up  the  unequal  contest,  and  to 
submit  to  see  himself  robbed  of  the  fruits  of  his  inge- 
nuity. He  soon  after  fell  into  a  state  of  extreme 
poverty,  and,  to  the  indelible  disgrace  of  his  age  and 
country,  was  permitted  to  end  his  days  in  the  work- 
house at  Nottingham,  even  after  the  merit  of  his 
invention  had  been  universally  acknowledged. 


RICHARD   ARKWRIGHT. 

The  spinning'-jenny  of  the  unfortunate  Hargraves 
was  applicable  only  to  the  spinning  of  cotton  for  weft, 
being  unable  to  give  to  yarn  that  degree  of  firmness 
and  hardness  which  is  required  in  the  longitudinal 
threads  or  warp.  But  this  deficiency  was  soon  after 
supplied  by  the  invention  of  the  spinning-frame,  by 
Eichard  Arkwright,  an  individual  whose  biography 
is  full  of  interest. 

Richard  Arkwright  was  born  on  the  23d  of  Decem- 
ber, 1732,  at  Preston,  in  Lancashire.  His  parents 
were  very  poor,  and  he  was  the  youngest  of  a  family 
of  thirteen  children  ;  so  that  we  may  suppose  the 
school  education  he  received,  if  he  ever  was  at  school 
at  all,  was  extremely  limited.  Indeed,  but  little  learn- 
ing would  probably  be  deemed  necessary  for  the  pro- 
fession to  which  he  was  bred — that  of  a  barber.  This 
business  he  continued  to  follow  till  he  was  nearly 
thirty  years  of  age  ;  and  this  first  period  of  his  history 
is  of  course  obscure  enough.  About  the  year  1760, 
however,  or  soon  after,  he  gave  up  shaving,  and  com- 
menced business  as  an  itinerant  dealer  in  hair,  col- 
lecting the  commodity  by  travelling  up  and  down  the 
country,  and  then,  after  he  had  dressed  it,  selling  it 
again  to  the  wig-makers,  with  whom  he  very  soon 
acquired  the  character  of  keeping  a  better  article  than 
any  of  his  rivals  in  the  same  trade.  He  had  obtained 
possession,  too,  we  are  told,  of  the  secret  method  of 
VI.— 22 


254  ARKWRIGHT. 

dyeing  hair,  by  which  he  doubtless  contrived  to  aug- 
ment his  profits.  It  is  unfortunate  that  very  little  is 
known  of  the  steps  by  Avhich  he  was  led  to  those 
inventions  that  raised  him  to  affluence,  and  have 
immortalized  his  name. 

Residing  in  a  district  where  a  considerable  manu- 
facture of  linen  goods,  and  of  linen  and  cotton  mixed, 
was  carried  on,  he  had  ample  opportunities  of  becom- 
ing acquainted  with  the  various  processes  that  were 
then  in  use  ;  and  being  endowed  with  a  most  original 
and  inventive  genius,  and  having  sagacity  to  perceive 
what  was  likely  to  prove  the  most  advantageous  pur- 
suit in  which  he  could  embark,  his  attention  was 
naturally  drawn  to  the  improvement  of  the  method  of 
spinning  practised  in  his  neighborhood.  He  stated 
that  he  accidentally  derived  the  first  hint  of  his  great 
invention  from  seeing  a  red-hot  iron  bar  elongated,  by 
being  made  to  pass  between  rollers  ;  and  though  there 
is  no  mechanical  analogy  between  that  operation  and 
his  process  of  spinning,  it  is  not  difficult  to  imagine, 
that,  by  reflecting  upon  it,  and  placing  the  subject  in 
different  points  of  view,  it  might  lead  him  to  his 
invention.  The  precise  era  of  the  discovery  is  not 
known ;  but  it  is  most  probable  that  the  felicitous  idea 
of  spinning  by  rollers  had  occurred  to  his  mind  as 
early  as  the  period  when  Hargraves  was  engaged  in 
the  invention  of  the  jenny,  or  almost  immediately 
after.  Not  being  himself  a  practical  mechanic,  Ark- 
wright  employed  a  person  by  the  name  of  John  Kay, 
a  watchmaker  at  Warrington,  to  assist  him  in  the  pre- 
paration of  the  parts  of  his  machine.  Having  made 
some  progress  towards  the  completion  of  hi«>  inven- 


ARKWRIGHT.  255 

lions,  he  applied,  in  1767,  to  Mr.  Atherton,  of  Liver- 
pool, for  pecuniary  assistance,  to  enable  him  to  carry 
them  into  effect;  but  this  gentleman  declined  embark- 
ing his  property  in  what  appeared  so  hazardous  <i 
speculation,  though  he  is  said  to  have  sent  him  some 
workmen  to  assist  in  the  construction  of  his  machine; 
the  first  model  of  Avhich  was  set  up  in  the  parlor  of 
the  house  belonging  to  the  Free  Grammar  School,  at 
Preston.  His  inventions  being  at  length  brought  into 
a  pretty  advanced  state,  Arkwright,  accompanied  by 
Kay,  and  a  Mr.  Smalley,  of  Preston,  removed  to  Not- 
tingham, in  1768,  in  order  to  avoid  the  attacks  of  the 
same  lawless  rabble  that  had  driven  Hargraves  out  ol 
Lancashire.  Here  his  operations  were  at  first  greatly 
fettered  by  a  want  of  capital.  But  Mr.  Strutt,  of 
Derby,  a  gentleman  of  great  mechanical  skill,  and 
largely  engaged  in  the  stocking  manufacture,  having 
seen  Arkwright's  inventions,  and  satisfied  himself  of 
their  extraordinary  value,  immediately  entered,  con- 
jointly with  his  partner,  Mr.  Need,  into  partnership 
with  him. 

Before  going  farther,  let  us  say  a  word  regarding 
the  Mr.  Strutt  here  alluded  to.  Jedediah  Strutt  was 
the  son  of  a  farmer,  and  was  born  in  1726.  His 
father  paid  little  attention  to  his  education  ;  but,  under 
every  disadvantage,  he  acquired  an  extensive  knowl- 
edge of  science  and  literature.  He  was  the  first  indi- 
vidual who  succeeded  in  adapting  the  stocking-frame 
to  the  manufacture  of  ribbed  stockings.  The  manu- 
facture of  these  stockings,  Avhich  he  established  at 
Derby,  was  conducted  on  a  very  large  scale — first,  by 
himself  and  his  partner,  Mr.  Need,  and  subsequent.y 


256  ARKWRIGHT. 

by  his  sons,  until  about  1S05,  when  they  withdrew 
from  this  branch  of  business. 

The  command  of  the  necessary  funds  being  ob- 
tained by  means  of  a  connection  with  Strutt  and 
Need,  Arkwright  erected  his  first  mill,  which  was 
driven  by  horses,  at  Nottingham,  and  took  out  a 
patent  for  spinning  by  rollers,  in  1769.  But,  as  the 
mode  of  working  the  machinery  by  horse-power  was 
found  too  expensive,  Sir  Richard  built  a  second  fac- 
tory, on  a  much  larger  scale,  at  Cromford,  in  Derby- 
shire, in  1771,  the  machinery  of  which  was  turned 
by  a  water-wheel.  Having  made  several  additional 
discoveries  and  improvements  in  the  processes  of 
carding,  roving,  and  spinning,  he  took  out  a  fresh 
patent  for  the  whole  m  1775 ;  and  thus  completed  a 
series  of  machinery  so  various  and  complicated,  yet 
so  admirably  combined,  and  Avell  adapted  to  produce 
the  intended  effect,  in  its  most  perfect  form,  as  to 
excite  the  astonishment  and  admiration  of  every  one 
capable  of  appreciating  the  ingenuity  displayed  and 
the  difficulties  overcome. 

The  machinery  for  which  Arkwright  took  out  his 
patents  consisted  of  various  parts,  his  second  specifi- 
cation enumerating  no  fewer  than  ten  different  con- 
trivances ;  but,  of  these,  the  one  that  Avas  of  by  far 
the  greatest  importance  was  a  device  for  drawing  out 
the  cotton  from  a  coarse  to  a  finer  and  harder  twisted 
thread,  and  so  rendering  it  fit  to  be  used  for  warp  as 
well  as  weft.  This  was  most  ingeniously  managed 
by  the  application  of  a  principle  which  had  not  yet 
been  introduced  in  any  other  mechanical  operation. 
The  cotton  was  in  the  first  place  drawn  off*  from  the 


ARKWRIGHT.'  257 

skewers  on  which  it  was  fixed,  by  one  pair  of  rollers, 
which  were  made  to  move  at  a  comparatively  slow 
rate,  and  which  formed  it  into  threads  of  the  first  and 
coarser  quality ;  but,  at  a  little  distance  from  the  first, 
was  placed  a  second  pair  of  rollers,  revolving  three, 
four,  or  five  times  as  fast,  which  took  it  up  when  it 
had  passed  through  the  others,  the  effect  of  which 
would  be  to  reduce  the  thread  to  a  degree  of  fineness 
so  many  times  greater  than  that  which  it  originally 
had.  The  first  pair  of  rollers  might  be  regarded  as 
the  feeders  of  the  second,  which  could  receive  no 
more  than  the  others  sent  to  them ;  and  that,  again, 
could  be  no  more  than  these  others  themselves  took 
up  from  the  skewers.  As  the  second  pair  of  rollers, 
therefore,  revolved,  we  will  say,  five  times  for  every 
revolution  of  the  first  pair,  or,  which  is  the  same 
thing,  required  for  their  consumption  in  a  given  time 
five  times  the  length  of  thread  that  the  first  did,  they 
could  obviously  only  obtain  so  much  length  by  draw- 
ing out  the  common  portion  of  cotton  into  thread  of 
five  times  the  original  fineness.  Nothing  could  be 
more  beautiful  or  more  effective  than  this  contrivance, 
which,  with  an  additional  provision  for  giving  the 
proper  twist  to  the  thread,  constitutes  what  is  called 
the  water-frame,  or  throstle. 

It  would  be  needless  to  enter  here  into  the  history 
of  Arkwright's  legal  contests,  which,  after  various 
success,  he  finally  lost,  and  that  only  because  the 
specifications  of  his  patents  were  obscure,  or  myste- 
riously expressed.  The  world  at  large,  however, 
readily  acknowledged  the  originality  of  his  invention, 
the  public  doing'him  that  justice  which  the  law  de- 
Q  22* 


25S  ARKWRIGHT. 

nied.  Whelher  he  was  the  actual  discoverer  of  the 
process,  is,  we  think,  of  little  moment.  He  made 
the  invention  known  under  all  kinds  of  embarrass- 
ments, and  at  the  risk  of  great  loss  ;  and  thus,  though 
he  were  proved  to  be  merely  the  publisher  of  the 
invention,  he  would,  as  such,  deserve  more  praise 
than  the  pusillanimous  beings,  who  laid  no  claim  to 
the  discovery  till  it  was  established  as  successful. 

The  most  marked  traits  in  the  character  of  Ark- 
wright  were  his  wonderful  ardor,  energy,  and  per- 
severance. He  commonly  labored  in  his  multifarious 
concerns  from  five  o'clock  in  the  morning  till  nine  at 
night;  and,  when  considerably  more  than  fifty  years 
of  age,  feeling  that  the  defects  of  his  education  placed 
him  under  great  difficulty  and  inconvenience  in  con- 
ducting his  correspondence,  and  in  the  general  man- 
agement of  his  business,  he  encroached  upon  his 
sleep,  in  order  to  gain  an  hour  each  day  to  learn 
English  grammar,  and  another  hour  to  improve  his 
writing  and  orthography !  He  was  impatient  of 
whatever  interfered  with  his  favorite  pursuits;  and 
the  fact  is  too  strikingly  characteristic  not  to  be  men- 
tioned, that  he  separated  from  his  wife,  not  many 
years  after  their  marriage,  because  she,  being  con- 
vinced that  he  would  starve  his  family  by  scheming 
when  he  should  have  been  shaving,  broke  some  of 
his  experimental  models  of  machinery ! 

Arkwright  was  a  severe  economist  of  time ;  and, 
that  he  might  not  waste  a  moment,  he  generally 
travelled  with  four  horses,  and  at  a  very  rapid  speed. 
He  had  extensive  concerns  in  Derbyshire,  Lancashire, 
and  Scotland;   and  his  speculative  schemes,  which 


ARKWRIGHT. 


259 


were  vast  and  daring,  generally  proved  advantageous. 
The  exertions  which  he  put  forth  in  establishing  his 
machinery  were  the  more  remarkable,  from  being 
made  while  in  bad  health.  During  the  whole  of  his 
career,  he  was  laboring  under  a  very  severe  asthmatic 
affection.  A  complication  of  disorders  at  length  ter- 
minated his  truly  useful  life,  in  1792,  at  his  works  at 
Cromford,  in  the  sixtieth  year  of  his  age.  He  wab 
high  sheriff  of  Derbyshire  in  17S6;  and,  having 
presented  a  congratulatory  address  to  his  majesty  on 
his  escape  from  the  attempt  upon  his  life  by  Margaret 
Nicholson,  received  the  honor  of  knighthood,  and 
hence  had  the  title  of  Sir  Richard  Arkwright. 


ELI   WHITNEY. 

While  Arkwright  and  others  were  engaged  in 
improving  the  manufacture  of  cotton  in  Great  Britain, 
another  genius  was  at  work  in  America,  having  the 
great  object  in  view  of  preparing  the  cotton  from  its 
raw  state,  for  the  processes  to  be  employed  in  its 
subsequent  manufacture.  Of  this  genius  we  have 
now  to  speak.  Eli  Whitney,  one  of  the  most  intrepid 
and  persevering  improvers  that  ever  lived,  was  the 
son  of  a  respectable  farmer  at  Westborough,  Wor- 
cester county,  Massachusetts,  where  he  was  born  in 
the  year  1765.  Very  early,  young  Eli  gave  striking 
indications  of  the  mechanical  genius  for  which  he 
was  afterwards  so  distinguished.  His  education  was 
of  a  limited  character  until  he  had  reached  the  age 
of  nineteen,  when  he  conceived  the  idea  of  entering 
a  college.  Accordingly,  notwithstanding  the  oppo- 
sition of  his  parents,  he  prepared  himself — partly  by 
means  of  the  profits  of  his  manual  labor,  partly  by 
teaching  a  village  school — for  the  College  of  New 
Haven,  which  he  entered  May,  1789.  Soon  after  he 
took  his  degree,  in  the  autumn  of  1792,  he  entered 
into  an  engagement  with  a  gentleman  of  Georgia, 
to  reside  in  his  family  as  a  private  teacher ;  but,  on 
his  arrival  in  that  state,  he  found  that  another  teacher 
had  been  employed,  and  he  was  left  entirely  without 
resources.  Fortunately,  however,  among  the  passen- 
gers   in  the   vessel    in  which   he  sailed,   was   Mrs. 


«  WHITNEY.  261 

Greene,  the  widow  of  the  celebrated  general,  who 
had  given  him  an  invitation  to  spend  some  time  at 
her  residence  at  Mulberry  Grove,  near  Savannah; 
and,  on  learning  his  disappointment,  she  benevolently 
insisted  upon  his  making  her  house  his  home  until 
he  had  prepared  himself  for  the  bar,  as  was  his 
intention. 

Whitney  had  not  been  long  in  her  family  before 
a  complete  turn  was  given  to  his  views.  A  party 
of  gentlemen,  on  a  visit  to  Mrs.  Greene,  having 
fallen  into  a  conversation  Upon  the  state  of  agricul- 
ture among  them,  expressed  great  regret  that  there 
was  no  means  of  cleansing  the  green  seed  cotton,  or 
separating  it  from  its  seed,  remarking,  that,  until 
ingenuity  could  devise  some  machine  which  would 
greatly  facilitate  the  process  of  cleansing,  it  was  in 
vain  to  think  of  raising  cotton  for  market.  "  Gentle- 
men," said  Mrs.  Greene,  "  apply  to  my  young  friend, 
Mr.  Whitney;  he  can  make  anything."  She  then 
conducted  them  into  a  neighboring  room,  where  she 
showed  them  a  number  of  specimens  of  his  genius. 
The  gentlemen  were  next  introduced  to  Whitney 
himself;  and,  when  they  named  their  object,  he 
replied  that  he  had  never  seen  either  cotton  or  cotton 
seed  during  his  life.  But  the  idea  was  engendered ; 
and,  it  being  out  of  season  for  cotton  in  the  seed,  he 
went  to  Savannah,  and  searched  among  the  Avare- 
hoases  and  boats  until  he  found  a  small  portion  of  it. 
This  he  carried  home,  and  set  himself  to  work  with 
such  rude  materials  and  instruments  as  a  Georgia 
plantation  afforded. 

With   these   resources,   however,   he    made   tools 


262  "WHITNEY.  * 

better  suited  to  his  purpose,  and  drew  his  own  wire, 
of  which  the  teeth  of  the  earliest  gins  were  made, 
which  was  an  article  not  at  that  time  to  be  found  in 
the  market  of  Savannah.  Mrs.  Greene  and  Mr. 
Miller — a  gentleman,  who,  having  first  come  into 
the  family  of  General  Greene  as  a  private  tutor,  after- 
wards married  his  widow — were  the  only  person? 
admitted  into  his  workshop,  who  knew  in  what  way 
he  was  employing  himself.  The  many  hours  he 
spent  in  his  mysterious  pursuits  afforded  matter  of 
great  curiosity,  and  often  of  raillery,  to  the  younger 
members  of  the  family.  Toward  the  close  of  the  win- 
ter, the  machine  was  so  nearly  completed  as  to  leave 
no  doubt  of  its  success.  Mrs.  Greene  then  invited  to 
her  house  gentlemen  from  different  parts  of  the  state  ; 
and  on  the  first  day  after  they  had  assembled,  she 
conducted  them  to  a  temporary  building  which  had 
been  erected  for  the  machine,  and  they  saw  with 
astonishment  and  delight  that  more  cotton  could  be 
separated  from  the  seed  in  one  day,  by  the  labor  of  a 
single  hand,  than  could  be  done  in  the  usual  manner 
in  the  space  of  many  months. 

The  machine  which  Mr.  Whitney  thus  constructed, 
consisted  chiefly  of  a  process  of  circular  saws,  which, 
by  a  rotatory  motion,  dragged  the  cotton  betwixt  wires, 
leaving  the  seeds  to  fall  to  the  bottom,  while  the  cot- 
ton so  cleaned  was  carried  off  by  a  rotatory  brush 
playing  upon  the  saws.  An  invention  so  important 
to  the  agricultural  interest,  and,  as  it  has  proved,  to 
every  department  of  human  industry,  could  Tiot  long 
remain  a  secret.  The  knowledge  of  it  soon  spread 
through  ihe  state ;  and  so  great  was  the  excitement 


WHITNEY.  263 

on  the  subject,  that  muhitudes  of  persons  came  from 
all  quarters  of  it  to  see  the  machine ;  but  it  was  not 
deemed  prudent  to  gratify  their  curiosity  until  the 
patent  right  had  been  secured. 

So  determined,  however,  were  some  of  the  populace 
to  possess  this  treasure,  that  neither  law  nor  justice 
could  restrain  them ;  they  broke  open  the  building  by 
night,  and  carried  ofT  the  machine.  In  this  way  the 
public  became  possessed  of  the  invention ;  and  before 
Mr.  Whitney  could  complete  his  model  and  secure 
his  patent,  a  number  of  machines  were  in  success- 
ful operation,  constructed  with  some  slight  deviation 
from  the  original,  with  the  hope  of  evading  the 
penalty  for  violating  the  patent  right.  A  short  time 
after  this,  he  entered  into  partnership  with  Mr.  Miller, 
who,  having  considerable  funds  at  command,  proposed 
to  him  to  become  his  joint  adventurer,  and  to  be  at 
the  whole  expense  of  maturing  the  invention  until  it 
should  be  patented.  If  the  machine  succeeded  in  its 
intended  operation,  the  parties  agreed  to  share  equally 
all  the  profits  and  advantages  accruing  from  it.  The 
instrument  of  their  partnership  bears  date  May  27th, 
1793. 

Immediately  afterwards,  Mr.  Whitney  repaired  to 
Connecticut,  where,  as  far  as  possible,  he  was  to  per- 
fect the  machine,  obtain  a  patent,  and  manufacture 
and  ship  for  Georgia  such  a  number  of  machines  as 
would  supply  the  demand.  On  the  20th  of  June,  1793, 
he  presented  his  petition  for  a  patent  to  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son, then  secretary  of  state  ;  but  the  prevalence  of  the 
yellow  fever  in  Philadelphia,  at  that  period  the  seat 
of  government,  prevented  his  concluding  the  business 


264  WHITNEY. 

until  several  months  afterwards.  We  have  not  space 
sufficient  to  give  a  satisfactory  detail  of  the  obstacles 
and  misfortunes  which  for  a  long  time  hindered  the 
partners  from  reaping  those  advantages  from  the 
invention  which  it  should  have  procured  for  them,  and 
which  they  had  an  ample  right  to  expect.  These 
difficulties  arose  principally  from  the  innumerable 
violations  of  their  patent  right,  by  which  they  were 
involved  in  various,  almost  interminable,  lawsuits. 
The  legislature  of  South  Carolina  purchased,  in  ISOl, 
their  right  for  that  state,  for  the  sum  of  fifty  thousand 
dollars — a  mere  "song,"  to  use  Whitney's  own 
phrase,  "in  comparison  Avith  the  worth  of  the  thing; 
but  it  was  securing  something."  It  enabled  them  to 
pay  the  debts  which  they  had  contracted,  and  divide 
something  between  them. 

In  the  following  year,  Mr.  Whitney  negotiated  a 
sale  of  his  patent  right  Avith  the  state  of  North 
Carolina,  the  legislature  of  which  laid  a  tax  of  two 
shillings  and  sixpence  upon  every  saw — and  some  of 
the  gins  had  forty  saws — employed  in  ginning  cotton, 
to  be  continued  for  five  years,  which  sum  was  to  be 
collected  by  the  sheriffs  in  the  same  manner  as  the 
public  taxes ;  and,  after  deducting  the  expenses  of 
collection,  the  proceeds  were  faithfully  paid  over  to 
the  patentees.  No  small  portion,  however,  of  the 
funds  thus  obtained  in  the  two  Carolinas,  was 
expended  in  carrying  on  the  fruitless  lawsuits  which 
it  was  deemed  necessary  to  prosecute  in  Georgia.  A 
gentleman,  who  was  well  acquainted  with  Mr.  Whit- 
ney's affairs  in  the  south,  and  sometimes  acted  as  his 
legal  adviser,  observed,  that  in  all  his  experience  in 


WHITNEY.  265 

the  thorny  profession  of  the  law,  he  had  never  seen  a 
case  of  such  perseverance  under  such  persecution; 
"nor,"  he  adds,  "do  I  believe  that  I  ever  knew  any 
other  man  wlio  would  have  met  them  with  equal 
coolness  and  firmness,  or  who  would  have  obtained 
even  the  partial  success  which  he  had." 

There  have  indeed  been  but  few  instances  in  which 
the  author  of  such  inestimable  advantages  to  a  whole 
country  as  those  which  accrued  from  the  invention  of 
the  cotton  gin  to  the  Southern  States,  was  so  harshly 
treated,  and  so  inadequately  compensated,  as  the  sub- 
ject of  this  sketch.  He  did  not  exaggerate  when  he 
said  that  it  raised  the  value  of  those  states  from  fifty 
to  one  hundred  per  cent.  "  If  we  should  assert,"  said 
Judge  Johnson,  "that  the  benefits  of  this  invention 
exceed  one  hundred  millions  of  dollars,  we  can  prove 
the  assertion  by  correct  calculation."  Besides  the 
violations  of  his  right,  he  had  to  struggle  against  the 
efforts  of  malevolence  and  self-interest  to  deprive  him 
of  the  honor  of  the  invention,  which  he  did  tri- 
umphantly. In  1S03,  the  entire  responsibility  of  the 
whole  concern  devolved  upon  him,  in  consquence  of 
the  death  of  Mr.  Miller.  In  1812,  he  made  applica- 
tion to  congress  for  the  renewal  of  his  patent,  but 
unfortunately  without  success — though  he  set  forth 
that  his  invention  had  been  a  source  of  opulence  to 
thousands  of  the  citizens  of  the  United  States ;  that, 
as  a  labor-saving  machine,  it  would  enable  one  man 
to  perform  the  work  of  a  thousand. 

Some  years  before,  in  179S,  Mr.  Whitney,  im- 
pressed with  the  uncertainty  of  all  his  hopes  founded 
on  the  cotton  gin,  had  engaged  in  another  enterprise, 
VI.— 23 


266  WHITNEY. 

which  conducted  him,  by  slow  but  sure  steps,  to  a 
competent  fortune.  This  was  the  manufacture  of 
arms  for  the  United  States,  which  he  contracted  for 
and  furnished  to  a  large  amount. 

In  January.  1817,  he  married  the  youngest  daughter 
of  the  celebrated  Pierpont  Edwards,  judge  of  the  Dis- 
trict Court  for  the  state  of  Connecticut.  For  the  five 
subsequent  years  he  continued  to  enjoy  domestic 
happiness,  a  competent  fortune,  and  an  honorable 
reputation,  when  he  was  attacked  by  a  fatal  malady — 
an  enlargement  of  the  prostate  gland — which,  after 
causing  great  and  protracted  suffering,  terminated  his 
life  on  the  Sth  of  January,  1S25. 

In  person,  Mr.  Whitney  was  considerably  above  the 
ordinary  size,  of  a  dignified  carriage,  and  of  an  open, 
manly  and  agreeable  countenance.  His  manners 
were  conciliatory,  and  his  whole  appearance  such 
33  to  inspire  respect.  He  possessed  great  serenity  of 
temper,  though  he  had  strong  feelings,  and  a  high 
sense  of  honor.  Perseverance  was  a  striking  trait  in 
his  character.  Everything  that  he  attempted,  he 
effected  as  far  as  possible.  In  the  relations  of  private 
life,  he  enjoyed  the  affection  and  esteem  of  all  with 
whom  he  was  connected. 


ROBERT  FULTON. 

This  individual,  who  was  the  first  to  establish  steam 
navigation,  was  born  of  Irish  parents,  in  Little  Britain, 
Pennsylvania,  in  the  year  1765,  being  the  third  child 
and  only  son.  His  father  died  when  he  was  young, 
and  he  had  no  other  means  of  education  than  that 
afforded  by  the  village  school. 

Following  the  bent  of  his  genius,  he  devoted  him- 
self to  drawing  and  painting,  and  at  the  age  of  seven- 
teen he  was  pursuing  this  avocation  for  a  livelihood. 
Such  was  his  success,  that  at  the  age  of  twenty-one, 
he  had  acquired  sufficient  means  for  the  purchase  of 
a  small  farm  in  Washington  county,  which  he  settled 
on  his  mother,  and  which  yet  remains  in  the  posses- 
sion of  the  family. 


268  FULTON. 

In  17S6,  he  embarked  for  Enirland,  and  became  an 
inmate  in  the  family  of  his  countrj'raan,  Benjamin 
West.  An  intimacy  thus  grew  up  between  the  young 
adventurer  and  the  great  artist,  which  was  only  dis- 
solved by  death.  He  continued  to  pursue  his  vocation, 
and,  during  a  .residence  of  two  years  in  Devonshire, 
he  became  acquainted  with  the  celebrated  Duke  of 
Bridgewatcr  and  the  Earl  of  Stanhope.  About  this 
time  he  conceived  a  plan  for  the  improvement  of  canal 
navigation,  and  he  received  the  thanks  of  two  socie- 
ties for  various  projects  suggested  by  him.  In  1796, 
he  published,  in  London,  a  treatise  on  canal  improve- 
ments. 

From  England  he  now  proceeded  to  France,  and 
took  up  his  lodgings  at  the  same  hotel  with  our  coun- 
tryman, Joel  Barlow.  When  the  latter  moved  to  his 
own  house,  Fulton  accepted  an  invitation  to  accompany 
him,  and  he  continued  to  reside  with  him  for  seven 
years.  During  this  period  he  studied  several  modern 
languages,  and  perfected  himself  in  the  higher 
branches  of  the  mathematics  and  natural  philosophy. 
He  had  now  abandoned  painting,  but  his  skill  in 
drawing  aided  him  in  his  mechanical  pursuits.  It 
was  about  this  period  that  he  projected  the  first  pan- 
orama exhibited  in  Paris. 

The  attention  of  Fulton  was  early  drawn  to  the 
subject  of  steam  navigation,  as  appears  by  his  corre- 
spondence with  the  Earl  of  Stanhope.  But  his  mind 
was  devoted  for  a  time  to  the  destruction  of  ships  of 
war  by  submarine  explosion.  Hence  his  invention 
of  the  torpedo,  and  the  plunging-boat.  With  the 
latter  he  succeeded  in  remaining  under  water  several 


FULTON.  269 

hours,  while  he  could  navig-ate  it  with  facility  in  any 
direction.  He  partially  succeeded  in  his  views,  but 
not  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  governments  under  whose 
auspices  he  prosecuted  his  scheme. 

While  Fulton  was  in  France,  and  still  engaged  with 
his  experiments  in  submarine  explosions,  Robert  R. 
Livingston,  of  New  York,  arrived  in  that  country  as 
minister  to  the  court  of  France.  He  had  been  en- 
gaged in  some  attempts  to  establish  steam  navigation 
in  the  United  States,  and  an  intimacy  between  him 
and  Fulton  immediately  commenced.  They  soon 
agreed  to  pursue  the  subject  which  interested  them 
both,  and  an  experimental  boat  was  soon  built  on  the 
Seine.  It  was  completed  in  the  spring  of  1803,  but 
she  was  imperfectly  constructed,  and  one  night  she 
severed  in  twain,  and  went  to  the  bottom  with  all  her 
machinery.  After  great  labor,  she  was  raised  and 
repaired,  and  an  experiment  was  made  with  her  in 
July,  which  was  so  far  satisfactory  as  to  determine  the 
projectors  to  continue  their  efforts. 

In  1806,  Mr.  Fulton  returned  to  America,  having 
procured  a  steam  engine,  which  was  constructed 
according  to  his  directions,  by  Messrs.  Watt  and  Bol- 
ton, of  England.  He  immediately  commenced  the 
building  of  his  first  steamboat  at  New  York.  In  the 
spring  of  1S07,  she  was  launched  from  the  ship-yard 
of  Mr.  Charles  Brown ;  the  engine  from  England  was 
put  on  board,  and,  in  August,  she  moved,  by  the  aid 
of  her  machiner}',  from  her  birth-place  to  the  Jersey 
shore. 

Great  interest  had  been  excited  in  the  public  mind 
in  relation  to  the  new  experiment,  and  the  Avharves 
23* 


270  FULTON. 

were  crowded  with  spectators,  assembled  to  witness 
the  first  trial.  Ridicule  and  jeers  were  freely  poured 
forth  upon  the  boat  and  its  projectors,  until,  at  length, 
as  she  moved  from  the  wharf,  and  increased  her 
speed,  the  silence  of  astonishment  which,  at  first 
enthralled  the  immense  assemblage,  was  broken  by 
one  universal  shout  of  acclamation  and  applause. 
The  triumph  of  genius  was  complete,  and  the  name 
of  Fulton  was  thenceforward  destined  to  stand  enrolled 
among  the  benefactors  of  mankind. 

The  new  boat  was  called  the  Clermont,  in  compli- 
ment to  the  place  of  residence  of  Mr.  Livingston,  and 
shortly  after  made  her  first  trip  to  Albany  and  back, 
at  an  average  speed  of  five  miles  an  hour.  The  suc- 
cessful application  of  Mr.  Fulton's  invention  had  now 
been  fairly  tried,  and  the  efficacy  of  navigation  by 
steam  fully  determined.  The  Clermont  was  adver- 
tised as  a  packet-boat  between  New  York  and  Albany, 
and  continued,  with  some  intermissions,  running  the 
remainder  of  the  season.  Two  other  boats,  the  Rari- 
tan  and  Car  of  Neptune,  were  launched  the  same 
year,  and  a  regular  passenger  line  of  steamboats  was 
established  from  that  period  between  New  York  and 
Albany.  In  each  of  these  boats,  great  improvements 
were  made,  although  the  machinery  was  yet  imper- 
fect. 

We  have  not  space  to  follow  Mr.  Fulton  through 
the  details  of  his  subsequent  career.  Altogether  thir- 
teen boats  were  built  in  the  city  of  New  York  under 
his  superintendance,  the  last  being  the  steam  frigate, 
which,  in  compliment  to  its  projector,  was  called  Ful- 
ton the  I.     The  keel  of  this  immense  vessel  was  laid 


FULTON.  271 

in  June,  1S14,  and  in  about  four  months,  slie  was 
launched  amid  the  roar  of  cannon  and  the  plaudits  of 
thousands  of  spectators.  Before  the  conclusion  of  this 
vast  undertaking,  Fulton  was  summoned  from  the 
scene  of  his  labors,  after  a  short  illness,  occasioned  by 
severe  exposure.  He  died  in  the  city  of  New  York, 
February  4th,  1814. 

Mr.  Fulton  left  a  family  of  four  children — one  son 
'and  three  daughters  ;  and,  as  is  too  frequently  the  case 
with  the  benefactors  of  mankind,  he  died  encumbered 
with  a  load  of  debt  which  had  been  contracted  in  those 
pursuits  which  have  produced  such  beneficent  results 
to  his  country  and  the  world  at  large. 

The  personal  character  of  Fulton  was  in  the  high- 
est degree  attractive.  His  manners  were  cordial, 
cheerful  and  unembarrassed.  He  was  a  kind  husband, 
an  affectionate  parent,  and  a  zealous  friend.  Inde- 
pendent of  his  public  fame,  he  has  left,  as  a  private 
individual,  an  unsullied  reputation,  and  a  memory 
vo'd  of  reproach. 

The  attempt  has  been  frequently  made,  by  those 
who  were  governed  by  narrow  and  unworthy  motives, 
to  deprive  Fulton  of  the  credit  due  for  the  greatest 
achievement  of  modern  times — the  actual  establish- 
ment of  steam  navigation.  The  futility  of  such 
attempts  is  sufficiently  evinced  by  the  notorious  fact, 
that,  in  1S07,  he  had  put  in  practical  operation  the 
first  steamboat  that  ever  was  built,  and  that  no  boat 
was  launched  in  Europe  which  proved  successful  till 
five  years  after.  This  was  constructed  by  Mr.  Bell, 
of  Glasgow,  in  1812.  At  this  time,  four  of  Fulton's 
boats  were  running  from  New  York. 


272  FULTON. 

It  is  not  contended  that  Fulton  is  the  first  individual 
who  conceived  the  idea  of  steam  navigation,  or  sought 
by  experiments  to  accomplish  it.  Rumsey  is  known 
to  have  attempted  it  in  Virginia  as  early  as  1787 ; 
Fitch  made  experiments  in  1783;  Oliver  Evans  in 
1785  ;  and  Jonffray,  in  France,  in  1792.  Indeed,  the 
idea  had  been  suggested  by  Jonathan  Hulls,  in  Eng- 
land, even  so  far  back  as  the  year  1736.  But  it  was 
reserved  for  Fulton  to  perfect  and  bring  into  operation 
what  had  been  conceived  by  others,  but  which  had 
baffled  all  human  attempts  to  reduce  it  to  practice. 

The  life  of  this  remarkable  man  suggests  various 
interesting  reflections.  While  he  was  pursuing  his 
labors,  which  were  to  result  in  one  of  the  most  stupen- 
dous blessings  ever  conferred  on  mankind,  he  was  the 
incessant  theme  of  ridicule  and  contempt.  Many  a 
pert  editor  of  a  paper,  many  an  habitual  satirist,  many 
a  man  wise  in  his  OAvn  conceit,  amused  himself  in 
dilating  upon  the  folly  of  attempting  so  impossible  a 
thing  as  steam  navigation.  He  was  as  truly  an  object 
of  persecution  by  the  bigotry  of  ignorance,  as  was 
Faust,  whose  improvements  in  printing  subjected  him, 
in  a  darkened  age,  to  the  charge  of  sorcery ;  or  Galileo, 
who  was  imprisoned  for  discovering  the  revolutions 
of  the  earth.  Yet  Fulton,  with  a  calmness  which 
beautifully  displays  the  dignity  of  genius,  unmoved 
by  scoffs  and  sneers,  pursued  the  even  tenor  of  his  way, 
and,  unabashed  by  rjdicule,  undismayed  by  difficulties, 
persevered  till  his  triumph  was  acknowledged  by  the 
world. 

Another  reflection  suggested  by  the  life  of  Fulton 
is,  as  to  the  mighty  influence  which  one  individual  may 


FULTON. 


273 


exert  on  the  destinies  of  his  fellow-men.  It  is  impos- 
sible to  estimate,  in  their  full  extent,  the  beneficial 
results  of  his  labors.  There  are,  at  least,  eight  hun- 
dred steamboats  in  the  United  States,  and  probably  as 
many  in  England.  A  large  part  of  the  navigation  of 
our  rivers  is  performed  by  steamboats,  as  well  as  a 
considerable  portion  of  the  travel  from  one  section  of 
the  country  to  another.  It  is  the  cheapest,  and  proba- 
bly the  safest  mode  of  travel  yet  devised.  The  fol- 
lowing statistics  of  steam  navigation  will  not  only 
show  that  the  risk  of  travel  on  steamboats  is  almost 
nothing,  but  it  will  suggest  the  amazing  extent  of 
steamboat  travel. 

During  the  five  years  ending  on  the  31st  December, 
1838,  the  estimated  number  of  miles  run  by  steam- 
boats connected  with  the  single  port  of  New  York, 
was  5,467,450 ;  the  number  of  accidents,  two ;  lives 
lost,  eight ;  the  number  of  passengers,  15,886,300 ; 
and  the  proportion  of  lives  lost,  to  the  passengers, 
about  one  i%  two  millions !  If  we  compare  this  state 
of  things  with  what  existed  prior  to  Fulton's  opera- 
tions in  1807  ;  if  we  extend  our  views  over  the  whole 
country  ;  if  we  cross  the  Atlantic,  and  see  the  mighty 
movement  in  respect  to  this  subject,  there ;  if  we  take 
into  account  the  recent  navigation  of  the  Atlantic  by 
steam,  and  its  incalculable  consequences ;  if  we  look 
to  the  navies  of  the  great  powers  of  the  world,  and 
remark  that  Fulton's  discoveries  are  being  applied  to 
the  art  of  maritime  warfare. — then  we  may  begin  to 
feel,  in  some  faint  yet  inadequate  degree,  the  effects 
which  one  man  of  genius,  by  one  great  invention,  may 
produce  on  the  interests  of  mankind. 

R 


COPERNICUS. 

Nicholas  Copernicus  was  born  at  Thorn,  on  the 
Vistula,  on  the  19th»of  February,  1473,  where  his 
father,  who  was  a  Westphalian,  had  become  a  citizen 
ten  years  before.  In  his  youth,  Copernicus  was  a 
studious  scholar,  and  at  the  age  of  twenty-three  went 
to  Italy,  where  the  arts  and  sciences  were  beginning 
to  flourish.  At  Bologna,  he  Avas  instructed  in 
astronomy ;  and  he  afterwards  visited  Rome,  where 
he  taught  mathematics  with  great  success.  From 
Rome  he  returned  to  his  own  country,  where  his 
uncle  made  him  a  canon  in  the  cathedral  of  Frauen- 
burg.  It  does  not  appear  that  he  made  any  figure  as 
a  churchman ;  instead  of  attempting  to  rise  in  the 
clerical  profession,  he  began  to  apply  his  whole  men- 
tal energies  to  the  contemplation  of  the  sul#ime  objects 
of  nature. 

Among  the  many  theories  with  regard  to  our  plan- 
etary system,  which  had  been  advanced  during  the 
previous  two  thousand  years,  one  had  at  last  pre- 
vailed, the  most  ingenious  and  artificial,  and  the  most 
wonderful  mixture  of  wisdom  and  error,  which  the 
human  mind  had  ever  conceived.  The  ancient  phi- 
losophers, Aristotle,  Plato,  Archimedes,  and  others, 
had  all  adopted  it;  and»from  being  powerfully  sup- 
ported by  the  reasoning  of  Aristotle,  it  came  to  be 
called  the  Aristotelian  system.  The  leading  princi- 
ple in  this  ancient  theory  of  the  universe,  and  which 


COPERNICUS.  275 

had  been  originally  propounded  by  Ptolemy,  was, 
that  the  earth  we  inhabit  was  stationary  or  immova- 
ble, and  that  the  sun  and  planets  revolved  round  it. 
One  reason  for  the  popularity  of  Aristotle's  theory 
among  the  learned,  was,  its  apparent  harmony  with 
what  was  recognised  by  the  senses.  The  earth  was 
not  felt  to  move ;  it  seemed  to  stand  still — therefore  it 
stood  still ;  the  sun  was  seen  to  revolve  from  east  to 
west — therefore  it  revolved.  Such  was  the  kind  of 
reasoning  in  these  ignorant  times.  Another  cause 
for  the  acceptability  of  the  theory  was,  that  it  appeared 
to  be  countenanced  by  the  Scriptures,  although  it  is 
very  certain  that  the  inspired  writers  are  silent  with 
regard  to  these  scientific  matters,  the  Bible  being 
bestowed  on  man  for  very  different  purposes.  Never- 
theless, such  was  not  the  opinion  of  the  church  pre- 
vious to  the  Reformation ;  and  the  immovability  of 
the  earth,  strange  to  say,  was  reckoned  a  point  of 
Bible  faith. 

The  Aristotelian  planetary  system  thus  continued 
unopposed  by  any  other  till  the  sixteenth  century, 
when  it  was  doomed  to  be  completely  overturned  by 
the  discoveries  of  Copernicus  and  Galileo.  Studying 
diligently  this  difficult  subject,  Copernicus  made  the 
signal  discovery  that  the  sun  was  the  centre  of  our 
planetary  system ;  that  the  earth  was  a  planet  like 
Mars  and  Venus  ;  and  that  all  the  planets  revolve 
round  the  sun  in  the  following  order : — Mercury,  in 
87  days;  Venus,  in  224;  the  Earth,  in  365;  Mars,  in 
1  year  and  321  days ;  Jupiter,  in  11  years ;  and  Sat- 
urn, in  29  years.  Thus  Avas  discovered  the  true  sys- 
tem of  the  universe,  and  thus  Copernicus  stands,  as  it 


276  COPERNICUS. 

were,  upon  the  boundary  line  of  a  new  era.  All  that 
he  accomplished  was  done,  moreover,  a  hundred 
years  before  the  invention  of  telescopes,  with  misera- 
ble wooden  instruments,  on  which  the  lines  were  often 
only  marked  with  ink. 

As  the  system  of  Copernicus  was  calculated  to  be 
of  immense  benefit  to  mankind,  one  would  naturally 
suppose  that  such  a  great  man  would  have  been  duly 
rewarded  for  his  beneficent  labors.  But  the  very 
reverse  was  the  case.  Though  very  modest  in  his 
assumptions,  he  drew  upon  himself  the  vengeance  of 
the  church,  which  looked  with  horror  on  the  idea  of 
the  earth  being  a  moving  body.  The  Vatican,  or 
court  of  the  Pope  at  Rome,  issued  a  sentence  of  ex- 
communication against  him ;  and  he  died  in  the 
seventy-first  year  of  his  age,  worn  out  with  the  labors 
of  constantly  examining  the  heavenly  bodies,  and 
depressed  by  the  persecution  which  had  visited  his 
innocent  and  useful  pursuits.  In  the  year  1S21, 
the  church  of  Rome  had  the  good  sense  to  obliterate 
from  its  records  the  sentence  against  Copernicus, 
after  a  lapse  of  two  hundred  and  seventy-eight  years 
from  the  period  of  its  being  issued. 


GALILEO. 

Copernicus  being  removed  from  the  field,  and  his 
theory  denounced  as  heretical,  it  was  fondly  imagined 
that  no  new  person  would  arise  to  disturb  the  ancient 
system  of  the  universe,  taught  at  the  various  colleges. 
But  it  will  be  comprehended  by  our  young  readers 
that  Truth  cannot  easily  be  suppressed  for  a  long 
time.  It  always  comes  out  at  last,  let  people  do  what 
they  will  to  prevent  it.  Copernicus  had  not  been 
dead  many  years,  when  a  similar  disturber  of  popular 
error  arose  in  the  person  of  Galileo  Galilei,  or  more 
commonly  called  by  the  single  name,  Galileo.  This 
Italian  was  born  at  Pisa,  in  1564.  His  father,  a 
nobleman  of  Florence,  caused  him  to  be  instructed  in 
the  ancient  languages,  drawing,  and  music,  and  he 
very  early  showed  a  strong  inclination  to  mechanical 
labors.  In  15S1,  he  entered  the  university  of  Pisa, 
to  attend  lectures  on  medicine,  and  to  be  grounded  in 
the  Aristotelian  philosophy. 

This  philosophy,  now  loaded  with  scholastic  rub- 
bish, very  speedily  disgusted  Galileo,  and  he  after- 
wards became  its  declared  adversary.  In  15S9,  he 
was  made  Professor  of  Mathematics  in  the  university 
of  Pisa,  and  now  began  to  assert  the  laws  of  nature 
against  a 'perverted  philosophy.  In  the  presence  of 
numerous  spectators,  he  performed  a  series  of  experi- 
ments on  the  tower  of  the  cathedral,  to  show  that 
weight  has  no  influence  on  falling  bodies.  By  this 
Ti— 24 


278  GALILEO. 

means  he  excited  the  opposition  of  the  adherents  of 
Aristotle  to  such  a  degree,  that,  after  two  years,  he 
was  forced  to  resign  his  professorship.  Driven  from 
Pisa,  he  retired  into  private  life ;  but  his  genius  being 
appreciated  in  another  part  of  Italy,  he  was,  in  1592, 
appointed  Professor  of  Mathematics  at  Padua.  He 
lectured  here  with  unparalleled  success.  Scholars 
from  the  most  distant  regions  of  Europe  crowded 
round  him.  He  delivered  his  lectures  in  the  Italian 
language  instead  of  Latin,  which  was  considered  a 
daring  improvement.  From  1597  till  1610,  he  made 
a  number  of  discoveries  in  mathematical  science,  as 
well  as  with  respect  to  the  character  and  phases  of 
the  planets.  His  name  growing  celebrated,  he  was, 
in  1610,  appointed  grand-ducal  mathematician  and 
philosopher  by  Cosmo  II.,  and  he  removed  from 
Padua  to  Florence.  Here  he  gained  a  decisive  vic- 
tory for  the  Copernican  system,  by  the  discovery  of 
the  varying  phases  of  Mercury,  Venus,  and  Mars ; 
and  the  motion  of  these  planets  about  the  sun,  and 
their  dependence  on  it  for  light,  were  thus  established 
beyond  the  possibility  of  doubt. 

While  Galileo  was  thus  employed  in  supporting 
and  enlarging  the  field  of  natural  philosophy,  a  tre- 
mendous storm  was  gathering  about  his  head.  He 
had  openly  declared  himself  in  favor  of  the  Coperni- 
can system  in  a  work  which  he  wrote  on  the  sun's 
spots,  and  was  therefore  denounced  as  a  heretic.  The 
monks  preached  against  him,  and  he  went. to  Rome, 
where  he  succeeded  in  appeasing  his  enemies,  by 
declaring  that  he  would  maintain  his  system  no  fur- 
ther, either  by  words  or  writings.     He  would  hardly, 


GALILEO. 


279 


however,  have  escaped  the  cruehies  of  the  inquisition 
unless  the  grand  duke  of  Florence,  suspecting  his 
danger,  had  recalled  him.  The  promise  which  Gali- 
leo had  given  not  to  promulgate  his  opinions,  he 
found  great  difficulty  in  keeping.  Panting  to  make 
known  to  the  world  a  complete  account  of  the  system 
of  Copernicus,  yet  dreading  the  prejudices  of  his 
enemies,  he  fell  upon  the  expedient  of  writing  a  work, 
in  which,  without  giving  his  own  opinion,  he  intro- 
duces three  persons  in  a  dialogue,  of  whom  the  first 
defends  the  Copernican  system,  the  second  the  Ptole- 
msean,  or  that  of  Aristotle,  and  the  third  weighs  the 
reasons  of  both  in  such  a  way,  that  the  subject  seems 
problematical,  though  it  is  impossible  to  mistake  the 
preponderance  of  arguments  in  favor  of  Copernicus. 

With  this  great  work,  which  is  still  held  in  rever- 
ence, Galileo  went  to  Rome,  in  1630,  in  the  sixty- 
sixth  year  of  his  age,  and,  by  an  extraordinary  stretch 
of  favor,  received  permission  to  print  it.  Scarcely 
had  it  appeared  at  Rome  and  Florence,  when  it  was 
attacked  by  the  disciples  of  Aristotle,  and  most  vio- 
lently of  all  by  the  teacher  of  philosophy  at  Pisa. 
The  Pope  also,  instigated  by  some  interested  parties, 
now  became  the  persecutor  of  Galileo.  A  congrega- 
tion of  cardinals,  monks,  and  mathematicians,  was 
appointed  to  examine  his  work,  which  they  unhesi- 
tatingly condemned  as  highly  dangerous,  and  sum- 
moned him  before  the  tribunal  of  the  inquisition. 

This  blow  fell  heavily  on  the  head  of  Galileo,  now 
an  old  man,  and  left  defenceless  by  the  death  of  his 
friend  and  patron,  Cosmo  II.  He  was  compelled  to 
go  to  Rome  in  the  winter  of  1633,  and  was  immedi- 


280  GALILEO. 

ately  immured  in  a  cell  in  one  of  the  prisons  of  the 
Inquisition.  It  is  not  consistent  with  our  plan  to  say 
anything  in  derogation  of  any  religious  or  civil  insti- 
tution ;  yet  wc  may  be  pardoned  in  dropping  a  tear 
of  sympathy  over  the  hard  fate  of  this  unfortunate 
veteran  of  science.  Here  was  a  poor  old  man,  who 
had  devoted  a  whole  lifetime  to  simple  scientific 
study,  harming  no  one,  but  rather  toiling  for  the 
benefit  of  his  race,  confined  by  a  set  of  inexorable 
persecutors,  ignorant  judges,  in  a  miserable  dungeon 
in  one  of  the  most  frightful  of  all  prisons,  and  denied 
all  chance  of  release  except  by  a  recantation  of  what 
is  now  acknowledged  to  be  undoubted  truth.  Can 
we  picture  to  ourselves  this  venerable  philosopher 
contemplating  the  starry  heavens  through  the  gratings 
of  his  narrow  window  ?  Can  Ave  imagine  his  feelings 
in  tracing  the  moon  in  its  path  across  the  hemisphere 
of  night,  and  reasoning  on  the  accuracy  of  the  system 
he  had  developed  ?  Or  can  we  think  of  him  turning, 
almost  broken-hearted,  from  this  vision  of  his  ^vorite 
pursuit,  and  sitting  down  in  darkness  and  solitude, 
inwardly  lamenting  his  cruel  fate,  and  the  ignorance 
which  thus  rewarded  his  exertions  ? 

Galileo  remained  a  prisoner  in  the  cells  of  the 
Inquisition  several  months,  when,  being  brought 
before  an  assembly  of  his  judges,  he  was  condemned 
to  renounce,  kneeling  before  them,  with  his  hand  upon 
the  gospels,  what  were  called  the  "  sinful  and  detesta- 
ble errors  and  heresies"  which  he  had  maintained. 
The  firmness  of  Galileo  gave  way  at  this  critical  mo- 
ment of  his  life  ;  he  pronounced  the  recantation.  But 
at  the  moment  he  rose,  indignant  at  having  sworn  in 


GALILEO. 


281 


violation  of  his  solid  conviction,  he  exclaimed,  stamp- 
ing his  foot,  E  pur  si  muove — it  still  moves  !  Upon 
this  dreadful  relapse  into  heresy,  he  was  sentenced  to 
imprisonment  in  tlie  Inquisition  for  life,  and  every 
week,  for  three  years,  was  to  repeat  the  seven  peni- 
tential psalms;  his  Dialogues  were  also  prohibited, 
and  his  system  utterly  condemned.  Although  Galileo 
was  in  this  manner  sentenced  to  confinement,  it 
appeared  to  those  who  judged  him  that  he  would  not 
be  able,  from  his  age,  to  endure  such  a  severe  punish- 
ment, and  they  mercifully  banished  him  to  a  particular 
spot  near  Florence. 

Here  Galileo  lived  for  several  years,  employing  his 
time  in  the  study  of  mechanics  and  other  branches  of 
natural  philosophy.  He  was  at  this  time  afflicted  with 
a  disease  in  his  eyes,  one  of  which  was  wholly  blind, 
and  the  other  almost  useless,  when,  in  1637,  he  dis- 
covered the  libralion  of  the  moon.  Blindness,  deaf- 
ness, want  of  sleep,  and  pain  in  his  limbs,  united  to 
embitter  his  declining  years  ;  still  his  mind  was  active. 
"  In  my  darkness,"  he  writes  in  the  year  1638,  "  I  muse 
now  upon  this  object  of  nature,  and  now  upon  that, 
and  find  it  impossible  to  soothe  my  restless  head, 
however  much  I  wish  it.  This  perpetual  action  of 
mind  deprives  me  almost  wholly  of  sleep."  In  this 
condition,  and  affected  by  a  slowly  consuming  fever, 
he  expired  in  January,  1642,  in  the  78th  year  of  his 
ao^e.  His  relics  were  deposited  in  the  church  of 
Santa  Croce,  at  Florence,  where  posterity  did  justice 
to  his  memory,  by  erecting  a  splendid  monument,  in 
1737.  The  year  in  which  Galileo  died,  was  that  in 
which  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  destined  to  establish  his 
theories,  was  born.  24* 


LINNiEUS. 

Charles  Linne,  better  known  by  his  Latinized 
name,  Linnaeus,  was  the  son  of  a  poor  village  pastor, 
and  was  born  at  Rashult,  in  the  province  of  Smeland, 
in  Sweden,  in  the  year  1707.     To  great  originality 
of  genius,  were  joined  an  enthusiastic  disposition, 
and  a  steadiness  of  perseverance,  which  enabled  him 
to  make  his  way  through  poverty  and  obscurity,  to  a 
distinguished  preeminence  as  a  man  of  science  and 
learning.     An  ardent  love  for  the  study  of  nature, 
especially  for  botanical  knowledge,  early  took  posses- 
sion of  him.     While  yet  a  boy,  he  seems  to  have  been 
more  fond  of  rambling  about  the  fields,  and  perusing 
the  great  book  of  nature,  than  the  folios  of  the  schools ; 
for  so  little  satisfaction  does  he  seem  to  have  given 
his  first  teachers,  that  his  father,  dissatisfied  with  the 
reports  of  his  progress,  contemplated  binding  him  to 
the   trade    of   a   shoemaker.      The    intervention   of 
friends,  and  his  own  earnest  entreaties,  however,  at 
last  persuaded  his  parent  to  permit  him  to  study  the 
profession  of  medicine.     At  the  university,  we  find 
him  rising  into  distinction,  in  the  very  midst  of  ex- 
treme poverty — in  want  of  books,  in  want  of  clothes, 
iv.  want  of  bread  to  eat,  and  even  patching  up  old 
shoes  with  the  bark  of  trees,  to  enable  him  to  wander 
into  the  fields  in  prosecution  of  his  favorite  study 
of  botany. 

"While  yet  a  mere  youth,  he  was  pitched  upon,  by 


LINN^US.  283 

the  Academy  of  Sciences  of  Upsal,  to  explore  the 
dreary  regions  of  Lapland,  and  to  ascertain  what 
natural  productions  they  contained ;  and  we  find  him 
embracing  with  ardor  this  laborious  and  solitary  un- 
dertaking, with  a  pittance  barely  sufficient  to  defray 
the  expenses  of  his  journey.  After  his  return  from 
this  scientific  expedition,  he  commenced  a  course  of 
public  lectures  on  botany  and  mineralogy  in  the  Uni- 
versity of  Upsal ;  he  was  full  of  the  subject,  and  the 
novelty  and  originality  of  his  discourses  immediately 
drew  around  him  a  crowded  audience.  But  envy, 
which  too  often  is  the  malignant  concomitant  of  rising 
talent,  soon  blasted  his  fair  prospects. 

It  was  discovered,  that,  by  a  law  of  the  university, 
no  person  "was  entitled  to  give  public  lectures,  unless 
he  had  previously  taken  a  degree.  Linnaeus  unfor- 
tunately had  obtained  no  academical  honors,  a  cir- 
cumstance which  involved  him  in  a  violent  quarrel 
with  Dr.  Rosen,  the  professor  of  medicine.  Fortu- 
nately, his  friends  interposed  to  soothe  his  resent- 
ment ;  and  he  forthwith  departed  from  Upsal,  attended 
by  some  of  his  pupils,  and  made  a  mineralogical 
and  botanical  excursion  into  the  province  of  Dale- 
car  lia. 

At  Fahlun,  the  capital  of  this  province,  he  became 
acquainted  with  Dr.  Morseus,  the  chief  physician. 
The  doctor  was  a  kind  and  learned  man,  and  had 
plants  and  flowers  which  excited  the  admiration  of 
the  young  botanist ;  but  he  had  a  fairer  flower  than 
any  which  Linnaeus  had  ever  yet  beheld  in  garden 
or  meadow.  In  short,  for  the  eldest  daughter  of  Dr. 
Moraeus,  our  botanist  conceived  an  ardent  alTection; 


284  LINNiEUS. 

his  admiration  Avas  met  by  the  young  lady  with  a 
grateful  attachment ;  and,  in  accordance  with  the 
ardor  and  enthusiasm  of  his  disposition,  Linnaeus 
solicited  of  the  father  the  young  lady's  hand  in  mar- 
riage. The  good  doctor  had  conceived  a  liking  for 
the  young,  learned,  and  eloquent  stranger ;  he  loved 
him  and  his  pursuits,  and  his  ingenuous  bearing ; 
but  he  tenderly  loved  his  daughter  also,  and,  more 
cool  and  considerate  than  the  youthful  lovers,  foresaw 
that  a  poor,  friendless  young  man,  without  any  fixed 
profession  or  employment,  was  not  likely  to  improve 
his  own  or  his  daughter's  happiness  by  such  a  rash 
step.  He  therefore  persuaded  him  to  delay  the  match 
for  three  years,  promising  that  his  daughter  should 
remain  unmarried  in  the  mean  time ;  and  if,  at  the  end 
of  that  period,  he  was  in  a  condition  to  marry,  his 
sanction  to  the  nuptials  would  be  readily  given. 

Nothing  could  be  more  reasonable  than  this  pro- 
posal. Linnasus  summoned  his  philosophy  to  his  aid. 
It  was  resolved  that  he  should  forthwith  depart  for 
Leyden,  in  order  to  obtain  a  degree.  Before  his  de- 
parture. Miss  Moraeus  brought  forth  her  accumulated 
saving  of  pocket-money,  amounting  to  a  purse  of  one 
hundred  dollars,  and  laid  it  at  his  feet  as  a  love-offer- 
ing and  an  unequivocal  proof  of  her  attachment.  He 
pressed  her  fair  hand,  kissed  her  fervently,  and,  with 
a  heart  glowing  with  the  most  unbounded  attachment 
and  admiration  of  her  generosity,  he  bade  her  fare- 
well. 

Many  a  poetical  lover  would  have  gone  forth 
dreaming  in  reverie,  writing  sonnets  alternately  to  his 
mistress  and  the  moon,  and  ever  and  anon  bewailing 


LINN-EUS. 


285 


his  hard  fate  at  the  awful  and  interminable  separa- 
tion. Not  so  our  philosopher ;  he  went  forth  cheered 
and  stimulated  with  the  thoughts  that  there  was  one 
who  loved  him  and  his  pursuits,  and  to  merit  whose 
attachment  he  was  resolved  to  strain  every  nerve  in 
the  path  of  learning  and  distinction.  At  Leyden  he 
prosecuted  his  studies  with  his  wonted  assiduity; 
attracted  the  notice  of  Dr.  Boerhave,  and  other  cele- 
brated men  of  science ;  was  appointed  family  physi- 
cian to  the  burgomaster  of  Amsterdam;  produced, 
during  the  two  years  he  held  this  situation,  many 
of  his  most  elaborate  works  ;  and  visited  England 
and  other  countries  in  quest  of  knowledge.  Indeed, 
the  extent  of  his  labors,  and  his  indefatigable  industry 
during  this  period,  is  almost  incredible.  There  was 
almost  no  department  of  natural  science  which  he 
did  not  investigate,  and  bring  within  the  compass  of 
his  methodical  arrangements ;  but  botany  was  his 
chief  and  favorite  study,  and  in  this  department  he 
raised  himself  a  reputation  which  can  only  perish 
with  the  science  itself. 

In  1738,  he  made  an  excursion  to  Paris,  and  towards 
the  end  of  that  year  returned  to  his  native  country, 
and  settled  himself  as  a  physician  at  Stockholm. 
At  first  he  experienced  neglect ;  but  at  length,  being 
fortunate  enough  to  prescribe  successfully  for  a  ciugh 
which  troubled  Queen  Eleonora,  he  henceforth  be- 
came the  fashionable  doctor  of  Stockholm,  and  was 
appointed  physician  to  the  admiralty,  and  botanist  to 
the  king.  Having  now  a  settled  income,  he  married 
the  lady  of  his  affections,  five  years  subsequent  to  his 
first  courtship.    Not  long  afterwards,  he  was  appointed 


286  LINNiSUS. 

medical  professor  in  the  University  of  Upsal;  and 
his  former  enemy,  Rosen,  having  obtained  the  botan- 
ical chair  of  that  university,  an  amicable  adjustment 
was  made,  by  which  they  exchanged  their  professor- 
ships. Linnaeus  now  saw  himself  seated  in  the  botan- 
ical chair  of  the  university,  which,  from  the  first, 
had  been  the  chief  object  of  his  ambition,  and  which 
he  continued  to  fill  with  distinguished  honor  for  a 
period  of  thirty-seven  years. 

Through  his  influence,  many  young  naturalists 
were  sent  to  explore  various  countries;  and  to  his 
zeal  in  the  cause  of  science  we  owe  the  discoveries 
in  natural  history  made  by  Kalm,  Osbeck,  Hassel- 
quist,  and  Loefling.  He  was  employed  by  the  queen 
of  Sweden  to  describe  her  museum  at  Drontlingholm, 
when  he  made  a  new  scientific  arrangement  of  the 
shells  contained  in  it.  About  1751,  he  published 
his  Philosophia  Botanica,  and,  in  1753,  his  Species 
Plantarum,  containing  a  description  of  every  known 
plant,  arranged  according  to  the  sexual  system.  This 
work  of  Linnseus,  which  may  be  termed  his  greatest 
and  most  imperishable  production,  appeared  originally 
in  two  volumes  octavo ;  but  the  edition  published  at 
Berlin,  1799-1810,  is  extended  to  ten  volumes. 

In  1753,  this  great  naturalist  was  created  a  knight 
of  the  polar  star,  an  honor  never  before  bestowed  on 
a  literary  man.  In  1761,  he  was  elevated  to  the 
rank  of  nobility.  Literary  honors  were  also  con- 
ferred on  him  by  scientific  societies  in  foreign  coun- 
tries. In  1768,  he  completed  the  plan  of  his  Systema 
NaturaR,  which,  through  successive  editions,  had  been 
enlarged  to  three  octavo  volumes.     Linnceus  acquired 


LINN^U.'i.  2S7 

a  moderate  degree  of  opulence,  sufficient  to  enable 
him  to  purchase  an  estate  and  mansion  at  Hammarby, 
near  XJpsal,  where  he  chiefly  resided  during  the  las* 
fifteen  years  of  his  life.  There  he  had  a  museum 
of  natural  history,  upon  which  he  gave  lectures,  and  trt 
which  he  was  constantly  making  additions  from  th<» 
contributions  of  travellers  and  men  of  science  in 
various  parts  of  the  world. 

His  health,  during  a  great  part  of  his  life,  enabled 
him  to  pursue  his  researches  with  vigor  and  activity  - 
but  in  May,  1774,  he  had  an  apoplectic  attack,  which 
obliged  him  to  relinquish  the  most  laborious  part  ol 
his  professorial  duties,  and  close  his  literary  labors. 
A  second  attack  occurred  in  1776,  and  he  afterwards 
experienced  a  third ;  but  his  death  did  not  take  place 
till  January  11,  1778.  Besides  his  works  on  natural 
history,  he  published  a  classified  Materia  Medica, 
and  a  systematic  treatise  on  nosology,  entitled  Genera 
Morborum.  Few  men  in  the  history  of  science  have 
shown  such  boldness,  zeal,  activity,  and  sagacity,  as 
Linnseus  ^  natural  science  is  under  unspeakable  obli- 
gations to  him,  though  the  different  systems  estab- 
lished by  him  may  be  superseded  by  more  perfect 
ones.  Charles  XIV.,  king  of  Sweden,  in  1819, 
ordered  a  monument  to  be  erected  to  him  in  his 
native  place. 


NATHANIEL   BOWDITCH. 

This  benefactor  of  those  "  who  go  down  to  the  deep 
in  ships,"  was  born  at  Salem,  Mass.,  March  26, 
1773,  his  father  being  Habakkuk  Bowditch,  first  a 
ship-master,  and  then  a  cooper  of  that  town.  Most 
great  men  are  said  to  be  blessed  with  superior  mo- 
thers, and  Nathaniel  Bowditch  appears  not  to  furnish 
a  refutation  of  the  rule.  His  mother  was  indeed  an 
excellent  woman,  discharging  her  duties  with  exem- 
plary fidelity.  By  her  death,  Nathaniel  was  deprived 
of  his  best  friend,  at  the  age  of  ten  years ;  but  she 
had  lived  long  enough  to  imbue  his  mind  and  heart 
with  those  principles  of  integrity,  which  are  the  best 
guide  of  life.  From  her,  he  is  said  to  have  learned 
his  first  instruction  as  to  the  nature  and  value  of  truth, 
in  the  following  manner  : 

While  a  child,  playing  behind  his  mother,  he  had, 
unobserved  by  her,  unrolled  a  ball  of  yarn,  from 
which  she  was  knitting,  and  involved  it  in  inextricable 
confusion.  When  she  discovered  the  mischief,  and 
addressed  him  with  some  severity  of  manner,  he 
denied  having  done  it.  She  at  once  entered  into  a 
serious  conversation  with  him,  and  while  she  told  him 
that  the  original  matter  of  offence  was  but  trifling,  she 
explained  to  him  so  fully  the  meanness  and  criminality 
of  falsehood,  and  urged  him  with  so  much  earnest- 
ness never  again  to  be  guilty  of  it,  that  this  lesson  of 
his  infancy  became  indelibly  impressed  upon  his  b"»rt 


BOWDITCH.  289 

It  appears  that  Nathaniel  was  a  favorite  in  the 
family,  where  there  were  seven  children.  His  superi- 
ority was  manifest  in  childhood,  and  the  mother 
appreciated  his  character.  The  house  where  he  spent 
a  part  of  his  early  days  is  still  standing  in  Danvers, 
to  which  place  the  family  removed  for  a  time — and  is 
thus  described  by  Mr.  Young : 

"  My  walk  brought  me  among  the  pleasant  farm- 
houses of  a  retired  hamlet,  in  Essex  county ;  and  I 
found  the  plain  two-story  house,  with  but  two  rooms 
in  it,  where  he  dwelt  with  his  mother ;  and  I  saw  the 
chamber-window  where  he  said  she  used  to  sit  and 
show  him  '  the  new  moon,  with  the  old  moon  in  her 
arm,'  and,  with  the  poetical  superstition  of  a  sailor's 
Avife,  jingle  the  silver  in  her  pocket,  that  her  husband 
might  have  good  luck,  and  she  good  tidings  from  him, 
far  off  upon  the  sea.  I  entered  that  house  and  two 
others  in  the  vicinity,  and  found  three  ancient  women 
who  knew  her  well,  and  remembered  her  wonderful 
boy.  I  sat  down  by  their  firesides,  and  listened  with 
greedy  ear  to  the  story,  which  they  gladly  told  me,  of 
that  remarkable  child,  remarkable  for  his  early  good- 
ness, as  well  as  his  early  greatness. 

"  The  first  of  these  women  whom  I  saw  and 
interrogated,  said  that  Nat  was  a  'beautiful,  nice, 
likely,  clever,  thoughtful  boy.  Learning  came  natural 
to  him,  and  his  mother  used  to  say  he  would  make 
something  or  nothing.'  I  asked  her  whether  she  had 
ever  heard  what  became  of  him.  '  Oh,  yes,'  she  re- 
plied, '  he  became  a  great  man,  and  went  to  Boston, 
and  had  a  mighty  deal  of  learning.'  '  What  kind  of 
learning? '  I  asked.  '  Why,'  she  answered,  '  I  believe 
s         VI.— 25 


290  BOWDITCH. 

he  was  a  pilot,  and  knew  how  to  steer  all  vessels.' 
This  evidently  was  her  simple  and  confused  idea  of 
The  Practical  Navigator.' 

"  The  second  old  lady  stated,  that  '  Nat  went  to 
school  to  her  aunt,  in  the  revolutionary  war,  in  the 
house  where  Ave  were  sitting,  when  he  was  about 
three  years  old,  and  that  she  took  mightily  to  him, 
and  that  he  was  the  best  scholar  she  ever  had.  He 
learnt  amazing  fast,  for  his  mind  was  fully  given  to 
it.  He  did  not  seem  like  other  children.  He  seemed 
better.     His  mother  was  a  beautiful  nice  woman.' 

"  The  third  old  lady  said,  that  '  Nat  was  a  little, 
still  creature ;  and  his  mother  a  mighty  free,  good- 
natured  woman.  She  used  to  say,  "  who  should  be 
cheerly  if  a  Christian  shouldn't?"  Her  children 
took  after  her,  and  she  had  a  particular  way  of  guard- 
ing them  from  evil.'" 

The  family  returned  from  Danvers  to  Salem,  when 
Nathaniel  was  about  seven  years  old,  and  he  was 
now  sent  to  the  best  school  in  that  town.  The  privi- 
leges that  it  afforded,  however,  were  exceedingly 
scanty,  and  far  beneath  those  of  the  poorest  district 
school  in  Massachusetts  at  the  present  day.  The 
subject  of  our  memoir,  however,  took  full  advantage 
of  these  opportunities.  It  is  even  said,  that  such  was 
his  proficiency  in  arithmetic,  that  he  readily  solved 
questions  which  the  teacher  supposed  to  be  beyond 
his  ability,  and  suspecting  that  he  had  obtained  assis- 
tance, and  attempted  to  impose  upon  him,  he  was  in 
one  instance  on  the  point  of  chastising  hini. 

Even  these  poor  advantages  were  relinquished  at 
the  age  of  ten  years,  when  he  Avas  taken  by  his  father 


BOWDITCH.  291 

into  the  cooper's  shop,  that  he  might  assist  n  the  sup- 
port of  the  family.  Not  long  after,  he  was  entered  as 
a  clerk  in  a  ship-chandlery,  in  which  employment  he 
continued  till  1795.  His  leisure  time  was  chiefly 
devoted  at  first  to  arithmetic,  and  afterwards,  as  he 
advanced,  to  mathematics.  His  slate  and  pencil  were 
so  constantly  in  hand  as  to  attract  attention,  and  one 
person  remarked  to  him  satirically,  that  if  he  kept  on 
ciphering,  he  had  no  douht  that  in  time  he  might 
become  an  almanac-maker.  He  also  tried  his  dexter- 
ity in  philosophical  experiments.  He  constructed  a 
curious  barometer  with  his  own  hand,  and  there  is 
still  in  existence  a  wooden  sun-dial  which  he  made  in 
1792. 

These  were  the  pursuits  of  his  leisure  moments,  and 
deeply  as  they  interested  him,  they  rarely  interfered 
with  the  active  discharge  of  his  duties.  At  one  time, 
however,  a  customer  called,  and  purchased  a  pair  of 
hinges.  When  the  man  came  in,  the  young  clerk  was 
deeply  engaged  in  a  mathematical  problem.  When 
the  customer  had  departed,  he  returned  to  his  problem, 
thinking  he  would  finish  it  before  he  charged  the 
hinges.  He  became  involved  in  his  mathematics,  and 
forgot  to  make  the  entry.  Shortly  after,  the  purchaser 
came  to  pay  for  his  purchase.  It  happened  that  the 
master  of  the  establishment  was  there ;  the  youth's 
neglect  was  exposed,  and  the  lesson  it  afforded  did 
not  pass  unheeded.  He  has  often  said  that  he  never 
forgot  the  hinges. 

His  interest  in  mathematics  increased.  He  became 
acquainted  with  algebra,  and  learned  the  elements  of 
navigation   from    a  British   sailor,   then   residing   at 


292  BOWDITCH. 

Salem.  He  rose  early  in  the  morning,  and  devoted 
his  stolen  hours  to  study.  In  the  long  winter  even- 
ings, he  sat  by  the  kitchen  fireside  of  his  employer, 
engaged  in  his  favorite  pursuit,  though  occasionally 
lending  a  hand,  at  the  request  of  the  nurse,  to  rock  the 
cradle.  Being  fond  of  books,  and  having  no  guide  in 
their  selection,  he  perused  whatever  came  in  his  way. 
He  read  the  whole  of  Chambers'  Encyclopedia  in  four 
volumes,  folio,  without  omitting  an  article.  He  perused 
Shakspeare,  and  treasured  up  its  finest  passages  in  his 
memory.  He  studied  the  Bible,  and  his  familiarity 
with  the  Old  and  New  Testament  surpassed  that  of 
many  professed  theologians. 

He  finally  obtained  free  access  to  the  Athenreum 
Library  of  Salem,  which  was  then  rich  in  V7orks  of 
science ;  among  its  treasures  were  the  Transactions 
of  the  Eoyal  Society  of  London.  All  the  mathemat- 
ical papers  in  these  and  other  similar  works  were 
wholly  or  partially  transcribed  by  him  at  this  period, 
and  are  still  preserved  in  his  library.  These  manu- 
script copies  consist  of  more  than  twenty  volumes.  The 
contents  of  one  of  them  is  as  follows  :  "A  Complete 
Collection  of  all  the  Mathematical  Papers  in  the  Phi- 
losophical Transactions  ;  Extracts  from  various  Ency- 
clopedias ;  from  the  Memoirs  of  the  Paris  Academy ;  a 
complete  copy  of  Emerson's  Mechanics ;  a  copy  of 
Hamilton's  Conies  ;  Extracts  from  Gravesande's  and 
Martyn's  Philosophical  Treatise,  from  Benoulli,  &c. 
&c."  All  this  was  done  by  a  ship-chandler's  clerk! 
Such  vast  labor  thus  bestowed,  partly  with  a  view  of 
impressing  the  subjects  upon  his  mind,  and  partly  to 
possess  what  he  could  not  otherwise  obtain,  evinces  a 


BOWDITCH.  293 

degree  of  zeal  in  the  pursuit  of  knowledge,  which  no 
obstacles  could  withstand. 

In  his  progress,  our  young  student  came  at  last  to 
Newton's  Principia,  a  work  of  the  roost  abstruse 
mathematics,  and  written  in  Latin.  He  yearned  to 
penetrate  its  mysteries,  and  sought  to  do  so  by  his 
knowledge  of  mathematical  subjects,  and  the  various 
equations  and  diagrams  which  it  contained.  But  the 
effort  was  not  satisfactory.  Should  he  then  turn 
back  ?  No ;  genius  is  not  baffled,  but  benefited,  by 
obstacles.  The  mountain  that  crosses  the  path  is  not 
only  surmounted,  but  is  made  the  footstool  upon 
which  new  and  wider  views  are  taken.  He  set  to 
work,  and  made  himself  master  of  the  Latin  language, 
and  thus  obtained  the  key  to  the  particular  knowledge 
he  sought,  while  he  also  opened  the  way  to  the  acqui- 
sition of  other  languages,  and  other  stores  of  science. 
While  still  a  clerk,  it  is  said  that  he  wrote  out  a 
translation  of  the  Principia  into  English. 

He  was  now  desirous  of  learning  French,  and  it 
chanced  that  he  met  with  a  foreigner  in  Salem,  who 
wished  to  learn  English.  Bowditch  proposed  "  a 
swap,"  and  accordingly  he  instructed  the  stranger  in 
his  native  tongue,  and  in  turn  was  himself  instructed 
in  the  language  he  wished  to  acquire. 

The  ancestors  of  Dr.  Bowditch  had  followed  the 
sea,  and,  in  the  year  1795,  he  adopted  the  same  pur- 
suit. His  first  voyage  was  performed  in  the  capacity 
of  clerk.  In  this  he  was  bound  to  the  Isle  of  Bourbon, 
and  was  absent  one  year.  He  took  out  a  small  ven- 
ture in  shoes,  which  resulted  in  considerable  profit. 
He  now  went  several  voyages  as  supercargo,  and  at 
25* 


294  BOWDITCH. 

last,  in  1802,  he  sailed  from  Beverly,  for  Sumatra,  in 
the  ship  Putnam,  being  both  master  and  supercargo. 

During  one  of  his  voyages,  it  chanced  that  the  ves- 
sel was  chased  by  a  French  privateer,  but  being  well 
armed  and  manned,  the  captain  determined  upon 
resistance.  The  duty  assigned  to  Bowditch  was  that 
of  handing  up  the  powder  upon  deck.  In  the  midst 
of  the  preparations,  the  captain  looked  into  the  cabin, 
when  he  was  no  less  surprised  than  amused  at  finding 
his  supercargo  quietly  seated  by  his  keg  of  powder, 
and  busily  occupied,  as  usual,  with  his  slate  and 
pencil. 

During  these  several  voyages,  Bowditch  spent  his 
leisure  hours  in  study.  "With  the  sea  around,  and  the 
sky  above,  apart  from  the  templing  pleasures  and 
intruding  cares  of  busy  life,  he  gave  himself  up  to 
communion  with  those  sublime  sciences,  which  would 
solve  the  mysteries  of  the  visible  universe,  and  dis- 
close the  laws  by  which  the  great  energies  of  nature 
are  guided  and  controlled.  Nor  was  he  selfish  in  his 
pursuits.  He  was  fond  of  imparting  knowledge  to 
those  who  were  willing  to  learn.  On  board  the  ship, 
he  frequently  instructed  the  sailors,  and  it  is  related 
that,  in  one  of  his  voyages,  he  taught  a  whole  crew  of 
twelve  men  to  work  lunar  observations;  and  it  is 
farther  stated,  that  every  one  of  these  twelve  sailors 
subsequently  attained  the  station  of  at  least  second 
officer  on  board  a  ship  ! 

Young  Bowditch  did  not  confine  his  studies  to 
mathematics.  He  loved  the  acquisition  of  languages, 
and,  during  his  sea  life,  mastered  the  Italian,  Portu- 
guese and  Spanish.      It  may  be  mentioned  here  that 


BOWDITCH.  295 

afterwards,  at  the  age  of  forty-five,  he  acquired  the 
German,  and  obtained  a  slight  knowledge  of  Dutch. 
He  took  pleasure  in  tracing  words  from  one  language 
to  another,  and  was  doubtless  much  amused  to  find,  on 
one  occasion,  that  a  Spanish  boy  on  board  his  vessel, 
whose  Christian  name  was  Benito,  was  entered  upon 
the  books  of  his  ship  as  Ben  Eaton.  He  acquired 
some  knowledge  of  the  Greek,  but  at  what  period  is 
not  known.  He  always  began  to  learn  a  language  by 
taking  his  New  Testament  and  dictionary,  and  attempt- 
ing immediately  to  translate.  Thus  he  left  in  his 
library  -the  New  Testament  in  more  than  twenty-five 
different  dialects  or  languages. 

In  March,  179S,  Bowditch  married  Elizabeth  Board- 
man,  and,  soon  after,  went  upon  his  third  voyage.  On 
his  return,  his  home  was  desolate.  She  had  died,  at 
the  early  age  of  eighteen.  Feeling  that  an  alliance 
so  brief  did  not  justly  entitle  him  to  the  property 
which  he  had  thereby  acquired,  he  surrendered  the 
whole  of  it  to  the  relatives  of  his  late  wife.  In  1800, 
he  married  his  cousin,  Mary  Ingersol,  a  lady  of 
uncommon  personal  attractions,  and  who,  during  a 
union  of  thirty-three  years,  thrcAv  around  his  fireside 
all  the  charms  of  cheerfulness  and  comfort. 

It  was  about  this  period  of  his  life  that  Bowditch 
published  his  Practical  Navigator.  He  had  issued 
two  editions  of  the  treatise  of  John  Hamilton  Moore, 
with  notes  and  corrections ;  but,  in  1802,  he  had  cor- 
rected so  many  errors,  that  he  was  induced  to  publish 
it  under  his  own  name.  From  that  time,  the  work 
has  been  exclusively  used  by  our  shipmasters,  and  its 
tables  and  rules  have  been  adopted  in  foreign  works. 


296  BOWDITCII. 

In  successive  editions,  he  introduced  various  improve- 
ments, and  at  last  brought  it  to  a  great  degree  of  per- 
fection. He  sought  w^ith  the  most  untiring  patience 
to  make  the  work  absolutely  correct;  for  he  well  kncAV 
that  many  lives  and  property  to  a  great  amount  might 
be  sacrificed  by  a  single  inaccuracy.  In  the  original 
work  by  Moore,  the  year  1800  was  set  down  as  a  leap 
year  in  the  tables  of  the  sun's  declination,  thereby 
making  a  mistake  in  some  of  the  numbers  of  twenty- 
three  miles,  and  causing  the  actual  destruction  of 
several  ships. 

The  labors  of  Mr.  Bowditch  in  this  useful  work 
have  been  justly  appreciated.  It  goes,  says  the  Lon- 
don Athenaeum,  "  both  in  American  and  British  craft, 
over  every  sea  of  the  globe,  and  is  probably  the  best 
work  of  the  sort  ever  published."  It  has  been  pro- 
nounced, says  Judge  White,  "  to  be,  in  point  ot  practi- 
cal utility,  second  to  no  work  of  man  ever  published. 
This  apparently  extravagant  estimate  of  its  importance 
appears  but  just,  when  we  consider  the  countless 
millions  of  treasures  and  of  human  lives  which  it  has 
conducted,  and  will  conduct,  in  safety,  through  the 
perils  of  the  ocean.  But  it  is  not  only  the  best  guide 
of  the  mariner  in  traversing  the  ocean  ;  it  is  also  his 
best  instructor  and  companion  everywhere,  containing 
within  itself  a  complete  scientific  library,  for  his 
study  and  improvement  in  his  profession.  Such  a 
work  is  as  Avorthy  of  the  author's  mind  as  it  is  illus- 
trative of  his  character  ;  unostentatious,  yet  profoundly 
scientific,  and  thoroughly  practical,  with  an  effective 
power  and  influence  of  incalculable  value." 

Upon  the  close  of  his  sea-faring  life,  Mr.  Bowditch 


BOWDITCII.  297 

was  elected  president  of  an  Insurance  Company  m 
Salem.  In  this,  he  acquired  such  a  reputation  for 
superior  judgment  and  discretion,  that,  in  1S23,  large 
inducements  were  offered  him  to  remove  to  Boston, 
and  take  charge  of  the  Massachusetts  Hospital  Life 
Insurance  Company.  This  proposal  he  accepted,  and 
continued  in  this  station  till  his  death.  Upon  this 
institution,  which  was  the  child  of  his  affections,  he 
bestowed  the  most  tmwearied  care,  patience  and 
industry.  His  conduct,  indeed,  furnished  the  model 
which  maybe  well  followed  by  those  who  are  charged 
with  similar  trusts.  Courteous  in  his  manners,  he 
was  at  the  same  time  vigilant,  fearless,  and  decided. 
He  was  well  rewarded  by  the  success  of  the  institu- 
tion, and  the  implicit  confidence  of  the  public. 

In  1807,  Mr.  Bowditch  had  completed  a  survey 
of  the  harbors  of  Salem,  Marblehead,  Beverly  and 
Manchester,  the  result  of  which  was  a  chart,  alike 
remarkable  for  its  beauty  and  exactness.  At  intervals 
of  leisure,  he  wrote  various  essays,  chiefly  upon 
mathematical  topics,  and  which  were  communicated 
to  the  public  through  the  scientific  periodicals  of  the 
day.  These  all  display  talent,  and  some  of  them 
evince  powers  of  the  highest  order.  In  1815,  he 
commenced  the  translation  of  the  Mechaniquc  Celeste 
of  La  Place,  four  volumes  of  which  were  completed 
in  three  years.  The  fifth  volume,  published  by  La 
Place,  twenty  years  after  the  others,  he  did  not  live  to 
complete. 

The  translation  he  had  thus  made  was  published 
by  Dr.  Bowditch  in  four  volumes,  quarto — and  in  a 
style  of  great  beauty — during  the  latter  period  of  his 


298  BOWDITCII. 

life.  The  first  appeared  in  1S29,  the  second  in  1832, 
the  third  in  1S34.  The  fourth  and  last  was  not 
quite  finished  at  his  death.  It  is  not  easy  to  overrate 
this  prodigious  effort.  The  work  of  La  Place,  dis- 
coursing of  the  sublimest  science,  was  the  production 
of  the  greatest  mathematical  mind  of  modern  times ; 
and  such  was  its  reach  of  science,  that  probably 
very  few  men  in  the  world  were  fully  competent  to 
master  it.  Dr.  Bowditch's  work  was  not  a  mere 
translation.  "I  regard  it,"  says  M.  Legendre,  "a 
new  edition,  augmented  and  improved,  and  such  a 
one  as  might  have  come  from  the  hand  of  the  author 
himself,  if  he  had  consulted  his  true  interest."  "It  is 
a  proud  circumstance  for  America,"  says  Mr.  Babbage, 
in  a  letter  to  the  translator,  "  that  she  has  preceded  her 
parent  country  in  such  an  undertaking,  and  we  in 
England  must  be  content  that  our  language  is  made 
the  vehicle  of  the  sublimest  portion  of  human  knowl- 
edge, and  be  grateful  to  you  for  rendering  it  more 
accessible."  It  was  to  a  great  extent  an  original  work, 
and  showed  that  the  author  was  not  behind  his  great 
original.  It  was  a  task  which  few  other  living  indi- 
viduals could  have  performed.  It  excited  the  amaze- 
ment of  the  learned  of  Europe.  It  did  not  abate  their 
wonder,  that  such  a  work  should  appear  in  America, 
and  that  it  should  be  the  production  of  a  shipmaster. 
The  ability  of  such  a  man  as  Dr.  Bowditch  could 
not  be  concealed  or  unacknowledged.  So  early  as 
July,  1S02,  and  while  his  ship  was  lying  wind-bound  in 
Boston,  he  received  the  honorary  degree  of  Master  of 
Arts  from  Cambridge  College,  and  from  the  same 
nstitiition  he   subsequently  received    the  degree   of 


BOWDITCH. 


299 


Doctor  of  Laws.  In  all  this,  the  institution  rather 
received,  than  bestowed  honor. 

We  cannot  enumerate  the  various  honors  bestowed 
upon  the  subject  of  our  memoir.  It  must  be  sufficient 
to  state,  that  he  became  president  of  the  American 
Academy  of  Arts  and  Sciences  in  the  year  1829, 
being  the  successor  of  John  Quincy  Adams.  He 
became  one  of  the  corporation  of  Harvard  College,  and 
president  of  the  Boston  Mechanics'  Institution.  He 
was  admitted  a  member  of  the  Royal  Society  of  Lon- 
don, the  Royal  Academy  of  Berlin,  and  of  various 
other  scientific  institutions,  in  this  country  and  in 
Europe.  He  was  the  active  friend  of  literary,  scien- 
tific and  charitable  institutions,  and  especially  of  the 
Athenoeum  and  Museum  of  his  native  town. 

It  is  impossible,  Avithout  a  detail  quite  beyond  the 
compass  of  this  volume,  to  give  an  adequate  idea  of 
the  amount  of  useful  labor  performed  by  Dr.  Bow- 
ditch.  His  methodical  habits,  his  activity,  his  untiring 
industry,  enabled  him  to  accomplish  almost  incredible 
results.  It  must  be  remembered  that  the  great  pro- 
ductions which  have  given  him  fame  throughout 
Christendom  were  the  works  of  his  leisure  hours. 
In  the  mere  fragments  of  his  time,  he  has  done  more 
than  most  other  men  of  genius  accomplish  in  their 
lifetime. 

In  1S34,  Dr.  Bowditch  was  called  to  endure  a 
heavy  calamity.  His  amiable  wife,  the  mother  of 
several  children,  had  long  been  suffering  from  that 
disease  which  seems  to  delight  in  blastmg  the  fairest 
flowers.  She  gradually  wasted  away,  and  finally 
died  peacefully  in  the  midst  of  her  family.     It  was  a 


300  E.OWDITCH. 

scene  "  too  serene  for  sorrow,  too  beautiful  for  fear." 
Seldom  has  the  sad  thought  of  the  poet,  that  "  death 
loves  a  shining  mark,"  been  more  touchingly  realized. 
She  was  a  tender  mother,  a  devoted  wife,  a  pious 
Christian,  a  graceful  woman.  Every  duty  which  was 
laid  upon  her  was  discharged,  and  with  a  serenity 
and  cheerfulness  that  shed  a  constant  light  around 
her  path.  She  appreciated  the  exalted  character  of 
her  husband,  and  found  gratification  in  his  extending 
fame.  It  was  with  her  consent,  and  partly  through 
her  urgent  counsel,  that  the  Mechanique  Celeste  was 
published,  involving  a  heavy  expense,  and  many  pri- 
vations to  the  family. 

Dr.  Bowditch  did  not  long  survive  his  amiable 
partner.  In  January,  1S38,  his  health  began  to 
decline.  By  slow  degrees,  he  tranquilly  descended 
to  the  tomb.  He  suffered  occasional  pain,  but  his 
mind  was  clear,  and  his  bosom  peaceful.  With  his 
children  around  him,  he  seemed  happy  still.  On  the 
26th  of  March,  he  took  an  affectionate  leave  of  his 
children,  all  of  whom  were  gathered  around  his  bed- 
side. Soon  after,  he  said,  "  Oh,  sweet  and  pretty  are 
the  visions  that  rise  up  before  me.  Now  let  thy  ser- 
vant depart  in  peace,  for  mine  eyes  have  seen  thy 
salvation."  A  few  hours  passed,  a  few  trembling  sen- 
tences were  uttered,  and  the  spirit  departed. 

The  withdrawal  of  such  a  luminary  of  science  could 
not  pass  unmarked.  Various  public  notices  of  the 
death  of  Dr.  Bowditch  took  place.  Dr.  Young  deliv- 
ered a  sermon  upon  the  occasion,  in  which  he  has 
drawn  a  lively  and  pleasing  picture  of  the  great  man's 
life.      Other  eulogies  were  pronounced.     We  have 


BOWDITCH.  301 

chiefly  derived  the  materials  of  this  sketch  from  an 
affectionate  memoir  drawn  up  by  one  of  his  sons, 
and  prefixed  to  the  fourth  volume  of  the  Mechanique 
Celeste. 

The  character  of  Dr.  Bowditch  has  been  set  before 
the  reader  by  his  acts.  In  person,  he  was  under  the 
common  size.  His  hair,  originally  of  a  light  color, 
was  gray  at  twenty-one,  and  became  silvery  white  in 
after  years.  His  forehead  was  remarkably  high  and 
capacious ;  his  eye  was  deep-set  and  penetrating. 
The  upper  portion  of  his  countenance  was  stern  ;  but 
the  expression  was  qualified  by  an  ineffable  sweetness 
about  the  mouth.  The  play  of  his  somewhat  pallid 
features,  wrought  by  the  vivid  intellect  within,  was 
rapid  as  the  sunlight  upon  the  wave.  He  possessed 
great  bodily  activity,  as  well  as  the  highest  mental 
vigor.  Late  in  life,  he  might  be  seen  glicjing  with 
rapidity  along  the  streets,  with  a  short,  rapid  step, 
imitating  the  quickness  of  youth.  He  expressed  his 
emotions  of  delight  by  rubbing  his  hands  together, 
and  springing  to  his  feet.  His  manner  of  speech  was 
impressive,  and  his  censure  was  appalling.  Though 
he  so  deeply  loved  mathematics,  he  seldom  made 
them  a  topic  of  conversation. 

He  seems  to  have  taken  no  delight  either  in  logic 
or  natural  philosophy.  The  pure  abstractions  of  his 
favorite  science,  its  stern,  inflexible  truths,  he  pursued 
with  delight,  but  his  mind  was  embarrassed  with 
metaphysical  subtleties.  The  gi'eat  truth  of  human 
accountability  he  settled  upon  the  instinct  found 
within  every  human  bosom.  Though  he  preferred 
works  which  treated  of  matters  of  fact,  he  had  still  a 
VI.— 26 


302  BOWDITCII. 

sensibility  to  the  beauties  of  poetry.  It  is  a  pleasing 
/act,  that,  upon  the  leathern  covers  in  which  he  kept 
the  proof-sheets  of  his  Mechanique  Celeste,  he  had 
written  extracts  from  the  Cotter's  Saturday  Night,  and 
the  following  stanza  from  the  Persian  poet,  Hafiz : 

"  On  parent's  knees,  a  naked,  new-born  child. 
Weeping  thou  sat'st,  while  all  around  thee  smiled — 
So  live,  that,  sinking  in  thy  last,  long  sleep. 
Calm  thou  may'st  smile,  whilst  all  around  thee  weep." 

Among  the  poets  of  America,  Bryant  was  his  favor- 
ite. The  Old  Man's  Funeral,  he  esteemed  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  productions  of  the  English  language, 
and  he  often  quoted,  with  delight,  Sprague's  fine  stan- 
zas to  the  swallows  that  flew  into  church,  beginning, 

"  Gay,  guiltless  pair, 

What  seek  ye  from  the  fields  of  heaven  ? 
Ye  have  no  need  of  prayer, 
'  Ye  have  no  sins  to  be  forgiven." 

He  was  fond  of  music,  and,  in  youth,  played  the 
flute.  But  he  abandoned  it  as  leading  to  an  unprofit- 
able use  of  time.  He  was  rigid  in  abstinence  from 
what  he  deemed  bad  habits.  For  this  reason,  he 
abstained  from  tobacco,  and  rejected  cards,  chess,  and 
the  theatre.  He  avoided  general  society,  but  was 
happy  in  familiar  intercourse  with  his  friends.  With 
his  family,  he  was  free  and  unreserved.  No  painful 
restraint  was  imposed  by  his  presence.  With  his 
children,  he  was  playful  and  childlike.  Taking  a 
middle  course  between  indulgence  and  severity,  he 
taught  by  precept  and  example  the  most  valuable  les- 
sons of  life,  and  winged  their  way  to  the  heart  by 
conveying  them  in  the  sweetest  tones  of  affection. 


BOWDITCH.  303 

Such  was  Nathaniel  Bowditch — certainly  one  of  the 
n^st  remarkable  men  of  his  time.  We,  who  have 
st-cn  him  among  us,  can  hardly  appreciate  the  full 
scope  and  meaning  of  his  life.  He  has  acquired, 
among  men  of  scicnc^,  a  brilliant  reputation  by  his 
mathematical  papers,  and  especially  by  his  translation 
of  the  Mechanique  Celeste.  In  every  respect,  this  is 
a  stupendous  work ;  it  not  only  displays  the  highest 
mathematical  talents,  but  when  we  look  at  the  amaz- 
ing extent  of  the  calculations,  the  beauty  and  perfect- 
ness  of  his  processes,  and  finally  consider  that  this 
herculean  performance  •  was  but  the  plaything  of  a 
busy  man's  life — we  shall  regard  it  as  indeed  one  of 
the  most  remarkable  productions  of  human  intellect. 

Yet  it  is  not  for  this  performance  that  we  give  him 
a  place  in  these  pages.  If  we  were  making  an  array 
of  men  of  genius,  he  would  claim  a  conspicuous  sta- 
tion, as  being  the  author  of  the  great  work  we  have 
noticed.  But  it  is  rather  as  the  author  of  the  Prac- 
tical Navigator — as  the  benefactor  of  the  mariner,  and 
of  the  human  race,  that  we  wish  to  present  him  to  our 
readers.  He  has  made  the  path  of  the  treacherous 
sea  more  safe ;  he  has  gone  with  the  lonely  sailor,  to 
guide  his  course,  and  teach  him  how  to  shun  the 
sunken  rock  and  reef,  the  insidious  shoal,  the  iron 
shore.  He  has  thus  preserved  thousands  of  lives; 
saved  millions  of  property;  reduced  the  rate  of  insur- 
ance ;  cheapened  every  foreign  commodity.  Not  only 
has  the  family  whose  father  is  upon  the  wave,  and  the 
mother  whose  son  is  ploughing  the  deep,  and  the 
maiden  whose  lover  has  trusted  himself  to  the  billow, 
occasion  to  bless  the  name  of  him  who  has  thus  abated 


304  BOWDITCH. 

the  perils  of  ilie  sea — but  every  member  of  the  com- 
munhv  shares  in  the  beiieficent  fruits  of"  his  labor. 
We  have  no  precise  means  to  estimate- the  amoinil  of 
good  which  he  has  thus  done;  indeed,  operating  on 
so  vast  a  scale,  it  surpasses  any  definite  conception 
we  can  form. 

Nor  is  this  alL  Dr.  Bowditch  has  left  us  the  pre- 
cious legacy  of  a  good  name.  He  was  not  only  great, 
but  good.  The  example  of  one  who  has  dazzled  the 
world  by  his  achievements,  is  contagious  ;  even  when 
dead,  he  multiplies  his  image,  good  or  evil,  by  the  force 
of  that  sympathy,  which  genius  seldom  fails  to  excite. 
It  has  thus  often  happened,  that  great  gifts,  lending  a 
charm  to  vice,  have  been  a  curse  rather  than  a  benefit 
to  mankind.  But  when  a  great  nq|an  practises  justice, 
charity,  peace,  and  kindness,  he  becomes  an  effective 
preacher  of  virtue ;  his  light  is  set  on  a  hill,  and  the 
world  will  delight  to  walk  thereby. 

It  is,  therefore,  as  a  great  man,  being  good,  that  he 
challenges  admiration.  It  is  not  because  he  was  a 
great  astronomer,  that  he  claims  our  homage — but, 
being  such,  that  he  was  still  a  kind  father,  a  good 
neighbor,  a  sincere  friend,  a  patriot,  a  gentleman,  a 
Christian.  "  I  can  hardly  bear,"  says  Dr.  Frothing- 
ham,  "to  hear  him  described  as  an  astronomer,  or 
mathematician — though  among  the  most  illustrious 
that  have  lived — he  was  so  honestly,  heartily,  bravely, 
and  entirel}^  a  man.  There  was  something  in  him 
brighter  than  talent,  and  deeper  than  even  that  pro- 
found knowledge  which  led  the  way,  with  a  modest 
silence,  where  there  were  few  intellects  that  could  so 
much  as  attend  him." 


IIUBER. 

!•  RANCis  HuBER  was  borii  at  Geneva,  in  Switzer- 
land, on  the  2d  of  July,  1750,  of  a  highly  respectable 
family,  remarkable  for  intelligence.  His  father  was 
distinguished  for  wit  and  originality  in  conversation, 
and  for  a  cultivated  taste  in  the  fine  arts.  Voltaire 
particularly  delighted  in  his  company,  on  account  of 
the  freshness  and  brilliancy  of  his  mind,  and  his  skill 
in  music.  He  excelled  in  painting  pictures  of  game, 
and  wrote  an  interesting  work  on  the  flight  of  birds 
of  prey.     His  son  inherited  his  taste  and  talent. 

Study  by  day,  and  romance  reading  during  Xhe 
night,  impaired  the  health  of  young  Huber,  and 
weakened  his  sight.  When  he  was  fifteen  years  old, 
the  physicians  advised  entire  freedom  from  all  literary 
occupation.  For  this  purpose,  he  went  to  reside  in  a 
village  near  Paris,  where  he  followed  the  plough,  and 
was  for  the  time  a  real  farmer.  Here  he  acquired  a 
great  fondness  for  rural  life,  and  became  strongly 
attached  to  the  kind  and  worthy  peasants  among 
whom  he  resided.  His  health  was  restored,  but  with 
the  prospect  of  approaching  blindness.  He  had, 
however,  sufficiently  good  eyes  to  see  and  become 
attached  to  Maria  Aimee  Lullin,  a  young  lady  who 
had  been  his  companion  at  a  dancing-school.  They 
loved,  as  warm  young  hearts  will  love,  and  dreamed 
of  no  possibility  of  separation.  M.  Lullin  regarded 
the  increasing  probability  of  Huber's  blindness  as  a 
T  20* 


306  HUBER. 

sufficient  reason  for  breaking  up  the  connection ;  but 
the  more  this  misfortune  became  certain,  the  more 
Maria  determined  not  to  abandon  hpr  lover.  She 
made  no  present  resistance  to  the  will  of  her  father, 
but  quietly  waited  until  she  had  attained  a  lawful  age 
to  act  for  herself. 

Poor  Huber,  fearful  of  losing  his  precious  prize, 
tried  to  conceal  from  the  world,  and  even  from  him- 
self, that  an  entire  deprivation  of  sight  was  his  inevi- 
table lot ;  but  total  darkness  came  upon  him,  and  he 
could  no  longer  deny  that  the  case  was  hopeless. 
The  affliction  was  made  doubly  keen  by  fears  that 
Maria  would  desert  him.  But  he  might  have  trusted 
the  strength  of  a  woman's  heart ;  as  soon  as  Miss 
bullin  was  twenty-five  years  old,  she  led  to  the  altar 
the  blind  object  of  her  youthful  affections.  The  gene- 
rous girl  had  loved  him  in  his  brilliant  days  of  youth 
and  gaiety,  and  she  would  not  forsake  him  when  a 
thick  veil  fell  forever  between  him  and  the  glories  of 
the  external  world.  There  is  something  exceedingly 
beautiful  and  affecting  in  this  union.  Those  who 
witnessed  it,  at  once  felt  a  strong  internal  conviction 
that  the  blessing  of  God  would  rest  on  that  gentle  and 
heroic  wife. 

Voltaire  often  alluded  to  the  circumstance  in  his 
correspondence,  and  it  forms  an  episode  in  Madame 
de  Stael's  Delphine.  Mrs.  Huber  had  no  reason  to 
regret  the  disinterested  step  she  had  taken.  Huber's 
active  and  brilliant  mind  overcame  the  impediments 
occasioned  by  loss  of  vision.  His  attention  was 
drawn  to  the  history  of  bees ;  and  by  the  assistance 
of  his   wife  and   son,  he    observed   their   habits  so 


IIUBKR.  307 

closely,  that  he  soon  became  one  of  the  most  distin- 
guished naturalists  in  Europe.  His  very  blindness 
added  to  his  celebrity;  for  men  naturally  admire  intel- 
lectual strength  overcoming  physical  obstructions. 
The  musical  talents  which  in  youth  had  made  Huber 
a  favorite  guest,  now  enlivened  his  domestic  fireside. 
He  enjoyed  exercise  in  the  open  air ;  and  when  his 
beloved  wife  was  unable  to  accompany  him,  he  took 
a  solitary  ramble,  guided  by  threads,  which  he  had 
caused  to  be  stretched  in  the  neighboring  walks.  He 
was  amiable  and  benevohnit,  and  all  who  approached 
him  were  inspired  with  love  and  respect.  Even 
great  success  came  to  him  unattended  by  its  usual 
evils ;  for  the  most  envious  did  not  venture  to  detract 
from  the  merits  of  a  kind-hearted  man,  suffering 
under  one  of  the  greatest  of  human  deprivations. 

Notwithstanding  the  loss  of  his  eyes,  Huber's  coun- 
tenance was  the  very  sun-dial  of  his  soul — expressing 
every  ray  of  thought  and  every  shade  of  feeling. 
During  forty  years  of  happy  union,  ]\Irs.  Huber 
proved  herself  worthy  of  such  a  husband's  attach- 
ment. He  was  the  object  of  her  kindest  and  most 
unremitting  attention.  She  read  to  him,  she  wrote 
for  him,  she  walked  with  him,  she  watched  his  bees 
for  him;  in  a  word,  her  eyes  and  her  heart  were 
wholly  devoted  to  his  service.  Huber's  affection  for 
her  was  only  equalled  by  his  respect.  He  used  to 
say,—"  While  she  lived,  I  was  not  sensible  of  the 
misfortune  of  being  blind."  His  children,  inspired 
by  their  mother's  example,  attended  upon  him  with 
the  most  devoted  affection.  His  son,  Pierre  Huber, 
who  himself  became  famous  for  the  history  of  the 


SOS  HUBER. 

economy  of  ants,  was  a  valuable  assistant  and  be- 
loved companion.  He  made  a  set  of  types,  with 
which  his  father  could  amuse  himself,  by  printing 
letters  to  his  friends. 

After  the  death  of  his  wife,  Huber  lived  with  a 
married  daughter  at  Lausanne.  Loving  and  beloved, 
he  closed  his  calm  and  useful  life,  at  the  age  of 
eighty-one. 


SIR  WILLIAM   IIERSCIIEL. 

The  science  of  astronomy,  which,  from  the  time  of 
Copernicus  and  Galileo,  had  been  gradually  improv- 
ing through  the  laborious  exertions  of  Tycho  Brahe, 
Kepler,  Huygens,  Newton,  Halley,  De'.sle,  Lalande, 
and  other  eminent  observers  of  the  starry  firmament, 
was  considerably  advanced  by  the  discoveries  of 
Herschel,  whose  biography  now  comes  under  our 
notice. 

William  Herschel  was  born  at  Hanover,  in  Ger- 
many, on  the  15th  of  November,  173S.  He  was  the 
second  of  four  sons,  all  of  whom  were  brought  up  to 
their  father's  profession,  which  was  that  of  a  musi- 
cian. Having  at  an  early  age  shown  a  peculiar  taste 
for  intellectual  pursuits,  his  father  provided  him  with 
a  tutor,  who  instructed  him  in  the  rudiments  of  logic, 
ethics,  and  metaphysics,  in  which  abstract  studies  he 
made  considerable  progress.  Owing,  however,  to  the 
circumscribed  means  of  his  parents,  and  certain  unto- 
ward circumstances,  these  intellectual  pursuits  were 
soon  interrupted,  and  at  the  age  of  fourteen  he  was 
placed  in  the  band  of  the  Hanoverian  regiment  of 
guards,  a  detachment  of  which  he  accompanied  to 
England  about  the  year  1757  or  1759.  His  father 
came  with  him  to  England,  but,  after  the  lapse  of  a 
few  months,  he  returned  home,  leaving  his  son,  in 
confonnily  with  his  own  wish,  to  try  his  fortune  in 
Great  Britain.     How  or  when  he  left  the  regimental 


310  HERSCHEL. 

band  in  which  he  had  been  engaged,  we  are  not 
informed. 

After  struggling  with  innumerable  difficulties,  and 
no  doubt  embarrassed  by  his  comparative  ignorance 
of  the  English  tongue,  he  had  the  good  fortune  to 
attract  the  notice  of  the  Earl  of  Darlington,  who 
engaged  him  to  superintend  and  instruct  a  military- 
band  at  the  time  forming  for  the  Durham  militia. 
After  fulfilling  this  engagement,  he  passed  several 
years  in  Yorkshire,  in  the  capacity  of  teacher  of 
music.  He  gave  lessons  to  pupils  in  the  principal 
towns,  and  officiated  as  leader  in  oratorios  or  concerts 
of  sacred  music- -a  kind  of  employment  in  which  the 
Germans  are  eminently  skilled,  from  their  love  of 
musical  performances. 

Herschel,  however,  while  thus  engaged  in  earning 
a  livelihood,  did  not  allow  his  professional  pursuits  to 
engross  all  his  thoughts.  He  sedulously  devoted  his 
leisure  hours  in  improving  his  knowledge  of  the 
English  and  Italian  languages,  and  in  instructing 
himself  in  Latin,  as  well  as  a  little  Greek.  At  this 
period  he  probably  looked  to  these  attainments  princi- 
pally with  a  view  to  the  advantage  he  might  derive 
from  them  in  the  prosecution  of  his  professional 
studios ;  and  it  Avas  no  doubt  with  this  view  also  that 
he  afterwards  applied  himself  to  the  perusal  of  Dr. 
Robert  Smith's  "Treatise  on  Harmonics" — one  of  the 
most  profound  works  on  the  science  of  music  which 
then  existed  in  the  English  language.  But  the 
acquaintance  he  formed  \vith  this  work  was  destined 
ere  long  to  change  altogether  the  character  of  his 
pursuits.     He  soon  found    that  it  was  necessary  to 


HEKSCHEL.  311 

make  himself  a  mathematician  before  he  could  make 
much  progress  in  following  Dr.  Smith's  demonstra- 
tions. He  now,  therefore,  turned,  with  his  charac- 
teristic alacrity  and  resolution,  to  the  new  study  to 
which  his  attention  was  thus  directed ;  anrl  it  was  not 
long  before  he  became  so  attached  to  it,  that  almost 
all  the  other  pursuits  of  his  leisure  hours  were  laid 
aside  for  its  sake. 

Through  the  interest  and  good  offices  of  a  Mr. 
Bates,  to  whom  the  merits  of  Herschel  had  become 
known,  he  was,  about  the  close  of  1765,  appointed  to 
the  situation  of  church  organist  at  Halifax.  Next 
year,  having  gone,  Avith  his  elder  brother,  to  fulfil  a 
short  engagement  at  Bath,  he  gave  so  much  satis- 
faction by  his  performances,  that  he  was  appointed 
organist  in  the  Octagon  Chapel  of  that  city,  upon 
which  he  went  to  reside  there.  The  place  which  he 
now  held  was  one  of  some  value ;  and  from  the 
opportunities  which  he  enjoyed,  besides,  of  adding  to 
its  emoluments  by  engagements  at  the  rooms,  the 
theatre,  and  private  concerts,  as  well  as  by  taking 
pupils,  he  had  the  certain  prospect  of  deriving  a  good 
income  from  his  profession,  if  he  had  made  that  his 
only  or  his  chief  object. 

This  accession  of  employment  did  not  by  any 
means  abate  his  propensity  to  study  for  mental  im- 
provement. Frequently,  after  the  fatigue  of  twelve 
or  fourteen  hours  occupied  in  musical  performances, 
he  sought  relaxation,  as  he  considered  it,  in  extend- 
ing his  knowledge  of  the  pure  and  mixed  mathemat- 
ics. In  this  manner  he  attained  a  competent  knowl- 
edge of  geometry,  and  found  himself  in  a  condition 


312  HERSCHEL. 

to  procGcd  to  the  study  of  the  different  branches  of 
physical  science  which  depend  upon  the  mathematics. 
Among  the  first  of  these  latter  that  attracted  his  atten- 
tion, were  the  kindred  departments  of  astronomy  and 
optics.  Some  discoveries,  about  this  time  made  in 
astronomy,  awakened  his  curiosity,  and  to  this  science 
he  now  directed  his  investigations,  at  his  intervals  of 
leisure. 

Being  anxious  to  observe  some  of  those  wonders  in 
the  planetary  system  of  which  he  had  read,  he  bor- 
rowed from  a  neighbor  a  two-feet  Gregorian  tele- 
scope, which  delighted  him  so  much  that  he  forthwith 
ordered  one  of  larger  dimensions  from  London.  But 
finding  that  the  cost  was  beyond  his  means,  he  gave 
it  up,  and  immediately  resolved  to  attempt  with  his 
own  hands  the  construction  of  a  telescope,  equally 
powerful  with  that  which  he  was  unable  to  purchase ; 
and  in  tliis,  after  repeated  disappointments,  which 
served  only  to  stimulate  his  exertions,  he  finally  suc- 
ceeded. 

Herschel'was  now  in  the  path  in  which  his  genius 
was  calculated  to  shine.  In  the  year  1774,  he  had 
the  inexpressible  pleasure  of  beholding  the  planet 
Saturn  through  a  five-feet  Newtonian  reflector,  made 
by  his  own  hands.  This  was  the  beginning  of  a  long 
and  brilliant  course  of  triumphs  in  the  same  line  of 
art,  and  also  in  that  of  astronomical  discovery. 

Herschel  now  became  so  much  more  ardently 
attached  to  his  philosophical  pursuits,  that,  regardless 
of  the  sacrifice  of  emolument  he  was  making,  he 
began  gradually  to  limit  his  professional  engage- 
ments and  the  number  of  his  pupils.     Meanwhile,  he 


HERSCHEL.  313 

continued  to  employ  his  leisure  in  the  fabrication  of 
still  more  powerful  instruments  than  the  one  he  had 
first  constructed ;  and  in  a  short  time  he  produced 
telescopes  of  seven,  ten,  and  even  twenty  feet  focal 
distance.  In  fashioning-  the  mirrors  for  these  instru- 
ments, his  perseverance  was  indefatigable.  For  his 
seven-feet  reflector,  it  is  asserted  that  he  actually  fin- 
ished and  made  trial  of  no  fewer  than  two  hundred 
mirrors  before  he  found  one  that  satisfied  him. 
When  he  sat  down  to  prepare  a  mirror,  his  practice 
was  to  work  at  it  for  twelve  or  fourteen  hours,  with- 
out quitting  his  occupation  for  a  moment.  He  would 
not  even  take  his  hand  from  what  he  was  about,  to 
help  himself  to  food  ;  and  the  little  that  he  ate  on  such 
occasions  was  put  into  his  mouth  by  his  sister.  He 
gave  the  mirror  its  proper  shape,  more  by  a  certain 
natural  tact  than  by  rule  ;  and  when  his  hand  Avas 
once  in,  as  the  phrase  is,  he  was  afraid  that  the  per- 
fection of  the  finish  might  be  impaired  by  the  least 
intermission  of  his  labors. 

It  was  on  the  13th  of  March,  1781,  t'bat  Herschel 
made  the  discovery  to  which  he  owes,  perhaps,  most 
of  hi*-:  popular  reputation.  He  had  been  engaged  for 
nearly  a  year  and  a  half  in  making  a  regular  survey 
of  the  heavens,  when,  on  the  evening  of  the  day  that 
has  been  mentioned,  having  turned  his  telescope — an 
excellent  seven-feet  reflector,  of  his  own  constructing 
— to  a  particular  part  of  the  sky,  he  observed,  among 
the  other  stars,  one  Avhich  seemed  to  shine  with  a 
more  steady  radiance  than  those  around  it ;  and,  on 
account  of  that,  and  some  other  peculiarities  in  its 
appearance,  which  excited  his  suspicions,  he  deter- 
VI.— 27 


314  nERSCIIEL. 

.Tiined  to  observe  it  more  narrowly.  On  reverting  to 
it,  after  some  hours,  he  was  a  good  deal  surprised  to 
find  that  it  had  perceptibly  changed  its  place, — a  fact 
which,  the  next  day,  became  still  more  indisputable. 
At  first  he  was  somewhat  in  doubt  whether  or  not  it 
was  the  same  star  w'hich  he  had  seen  on  these  diflTer- 
ent  occasions ;  but,  after  continuing  his  observations 
for  a  few  days  longer,  all  uncertainty  upon  that  head 
vanished.  He  now  communicated  what  he  had  ob- 
served to  the  astronomer  royal.  Dr.  Maskelyne,  who 
concluded  that  the  luminary  could  be  nothing  else 
than  a  new  comet.  Continued  observation  of  it, 
however,  for  a  few  months,  dissipated  this  error ;  and 
it  became  evident  that  it  was,  in  reality,  a  hitherto 
undiscovered  planet.  This  new  world,  so  unexpect- 
edly found  to  form  a  part  of  the  system  to  which  our 
own  belongs,  received  from  Herschel  the  name  of 
Georgium  Sidus,  or  Georgian  Star,  in  honor  of  the 
king  of  England ;  but  by  astronomers  it  has  been 
."nore  generally  called  either  Herschel,  after  its  dis- 
coverer, or  Uranus.  He  afterwards  discovered,  suc- 
cessively, no  fewer  than  six  satellites  or  moons, 
belonging  to  his  new  planet. 

The  announcement  of  the  discovery  of  the  Geor- 
gium Sidus  at  once  made  Herschel's  name  univer- 
sally known.  In  the  course  of  a  few  months  the 
king  bestowed  upon  him  a  pension  of  three  hundred 
pounds  a  year,  that  he  might  be  enabled  entirely  to 
relinquish  his  engagements  at  Bath ;  and  upon  this 
he  came  to  reside  at  Slough,  near  Windsor.  He 
now  devoted  himself  entirely  to  science ;  and  the 
constructing  of  telescopes,  and   observations  of  the 


HERSCHEL.  315 

heavens,  continued  to  form  the  occupations  of  the 
remainder  of  his  life.  Astronomy  is  indebted  to 
him  for  many  other  most  interesting  discoveries  be- 
sides the  celebrated  one  of  which  we  have  given  an 
account,  as  well  as  for  a  variety  of  speculations  of 
the  most  ingeiiious,  original,  and  profound  character. 
But  of  these  we  cannot  here  attempt  any  detail. 
He  also  introduced  some  important  improvements 
into  the  construction  of  the  reflecting  telescope, 
besides  continuing  to  fabricate  that  instrument  of 
dimensions  greatly  exceeding  any  that  had  been  for- 
merly attempted,  with  powers  surpassing,  in  nearly 
a  corresponding  degree,  what  had  ever  been  before 
obtained. 

The  largest  telescope  which  he  ever  made,  was  his 
famous  one  of  forty  feet  long,  which  he  erected  at 
Slough,  for  the  king.  It  was  begun  about  .he  end  of 
the  year  1785,  and,  on  the  28th  of  August,  1789,  the 
enormous  tube  was  poised  on  the  complicated  but 
ingeniously  contrived  mechanism,  by  which  its  move- 
ments were  to  be  regulated,  and  ready  for  use.  On 
the  same  day,  a  new  satellite  of  Saturn  was  detected 
by  it,  being  the  sixth  which  had  been  observed 
attendant  upon  that  planet.  A  seventh  was  after- 
wards discovered  by  means  of  the  same  instrument. 
This  telescope  has  since  been  taken  down,  and 
replaced  by  another,  of  only  one-half  the  length,  con- 
structed by  the  distinguished  son  of  the  subject  of  our 
present  sketch. 

So  extraordinary  was  the  ardor  of  this  great  astron- 
omer in  the  study  of  his  favorite  science,  that,  for 
many  years.  It  has  been   asserted,  he  never  was  in 


316  IIERSCHEL. 

bed  at  any  hour  during  which  the  stars  were  visible ; 
and  he  made  ahnost  all  his  observations,  whatever 
was  the  season  of  the  year,  not  under  cover,  but  in 
his  garden,  and  in  the  open  air,  and  generally  with- 
out an  attendant.  By  these  investigations,  Herschel 
became  acquainted  with  the  character  of  the  more 
distant  stars,  upon  which  he  wrote  a  variety  of 
papers.  In  1802,  he  presented  to  the  Royal  Society 
a  catalogue  of  five  thousand  new  nebula;,  nebulous 
stars,  planetary  nebulae,  and  clusters  of  stars ;  thus 
unfolding  a  boundless  field  of  research,  and  making 
the  world  aware  of  the  sublime  fact  that  there  is  an 
infinitude  of  heavenly  bodies  far  beyond  the  reach 
of  ordinary  vision,  and  performing,  in  their  ap- 
pointed places,  the  offices  of  suns  to  unseen  systems 
of  planets. 

These  discoveries  established  Herschel's  claims  to 
rank  among  the  most  eminent  astronomers  of  the 
age,  and  amply  merited  the  distinctions  conferred 
upon  him  by  learned  bodies  and  the  reigning  prince. 
In  1816,  George  IV.,  then  Prince  Regent,  invested 
him  with  the  Hanoverian  and  Guelphic  order  of 
knighthood.  He  was  now,  from  being  originally  a 
poor  lad  in  a  regimental  band,  rewarded  for  his  long 
course  of  honorable  exertion  in  the  cause  of  science. 
Herschel  did  not  relinquish  his  astronomical  observa- 
tions until  Avithin  a  few  years  of  his  death,  which 
took  place  on  the  23d  of  August,  1822,  at  the 
advanced  age  of  eighty-three.  He  died  full  of  years 
and  honors,  bequeathing  a  large  fortune,  and  leaving 
a  family  which  has  inherited  his  genius. 


SIR   HUMPHRY  DAVY. 

Humphry  Davy,  one  of  the  most  laborious  and 
successful  explorers  of  the  science  of  chemistry  in 
modern  times,  was  born  at  Penzance,  in  Cornwall, 
England,  on  the  17th  of  December,  1778.  His 
parents  belonged  to  the  humbler  order  of  society,  but 
were  nevertheless  respectable.  After  receiving  the 
elements  of  education  at  Penzance,  and  being  for 
some  time  at  the  grammar  school  of  Truro,  he  was 
bound  apprentice,  in  1795,  to  a  surgeon-apothecary  in 
his  native  town.  When  thus  entering  upon  a  profes- 
sion, he  no  doubt  foresaw  that  his  success  in  life 
would  depend  on  his  own  exertions.  At  this  time, 
his  father  having  died,  his  mother  found  herself 
under  the  necessity  of  becoming  a  milliner  in  Pen- 
zance, by  which  she  contrived  to  glean  an  honorable 
subsistence  for  her  family. 

Little  is  known  of  Davy's  early  character,  beyond 
the  circumstance  of  his  facility  in  gathering  and 
treasuring  up  the  information  which  books  afforded 
him,  and  his  predilection  for  poetry.  While  acting 
in  the  capacity  of  apothecary's  apprentice,  he  devoted 
his  leisure  hours  to  examinations  into  the  productions 
of  nature,  as  well  as  into  chemical  science.  His 
instruments  were  supplied  by  his  own  ingenuity. 
In  the  contrivance  of  apparatus  and  invention  of 
expedients,  he  evinced  great  proficiency ;  and  in  after 


31S  DAVY. 

years,  it  is  allowed  by  scientific  men,  that  in  this 
respect,  as   well   as   in   others,   he   stood  unrivaired. 

In  October,  179S,  Davy  quitted  Penzance  for  Bris- 
tol, to  superintend  a  pneumatic  medical  institution, 
having  then  scarcely  attained  his  twentieth  year. 
Kemoved  from  a  small  country  town  to  a  populous 
city  offering  scope  for  the  exercise  of  his  genius,  Davy 
now  felt  as  if  in  a  new  world.  He  associated  with 
men  engaged  in  those  philosophical  pursuits  in  which 
he  found  so  much  delight;  was  provided  with  suitable 
apparatus,  and  speedily  entered  upon  that  brilliant 
career  of  discovery  which  has  rendered  his  name  so 
illustrious.  It  was  not  his  intention  to  abandon  the 
study  or  practice  of  medicine ;  but  after  a  short  time 
he  found  it  necessary  to  do  so,  and  direct  his  whole 
attention  to  chemistry. 

It  was  at  this  period  of  his  life  that  Davy  pursued 
a  series  of  hazardous  experiments  upon  nitrous  oxide 
— a  gas  which,  if  incautiously  used,  is  destructive  of 
animal  life,  and  when  taken  into  the  lungs  produces 
highly  increased  muscular  action,  and  a  propensity  to 
indulge  in  laughter.  He  not  only  inhaled  this  dan- 
gerous fluid,  but  also  carburetted  hydrogen  and  car- 
bonic acid  gas,  with  a  view  to  develop  facts  illustra- 
tive of  their  nature.  The  fame  which  followed  the 
publication  of  these  investigations,  extended  the  repu- 
tation of  the  young  chemist.  At  this  period  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  Royal  Institution  in  London  took 
place,  and  Davy  was  invited  to  become  assistant  pro- 
fessor in  chemistry,  and  director  of  the  laboratory. 
He  accepted  the  offer,  and,  in  the  beginning  of  the 
year  1801,  entered  upon  the  duties  of  his  situation. 


DAVY.  319 

Only  a  few  weeks  had  elapsed  in  this  new  sphere 
of  exertion,  when  he  was  appointed  by  the  managers 
lecturer  in  chemistry,  instead  of  assistant.  His  first 
lecture  was  delivered  in  1802,  and  from  this  period 
we  may  date  the  commencement  of  his  splendid 
career.  He  at  once  succeeded  in  making  a  strong 
impression  upon  the  public  mind,  and  by  a  series  of 
brilliant  discoveries  was  enabled  to  maintain  it  till 
the  hour  of  his  death.  His  discourses  were  admira- 
bly adapted  to  fascinate  his  audience,  which  was 
composed,  not  of  philosophers  alone,  but  the  gay  and 
fashionable  of  the  city,  a  considerable  proportion  of 
whom  were  ladies  in  the  higher  walks  of  life.  His 
experiments,  particularly  with  the  voltaic  battery — an 
instrument  with  which  he  was  destined  to  work  such 
miracles — riveted  universal  attention  ;  philosophers 
admired  and  applauded,  and  the  softer  sex  were 
involved  in  the  most  agreeable  terrors. 

His  style  was  highly  florid.  It  largely  partook  of 
that  poetical  inspiration,  of  which,  as  has  been  already 
stated,  he  so  early  evinced  the  possession.  Coleridge, 
the  poet,  was  a  constant  attendant  on  the  lectures, 
and  has  himself  declared  it  was  to  increase  the  stock 
of  his  metaphors.  So  great  was  Davy's  popularity, 
that  even  duchesses  vied  with  each  other  in  doing 
homage  to  his  genius ;  compliments,  invitations,  and 
presents,  were  showered  upon  him  from  all  quarters, 
and  no  entertainment  was  considered  complete  with- 
out the  presence  of  the  chemical  lecturer.  This  adu- 
lation had  its  usual  effect  upon  the  mind  of  Davy,  and 
impaired  that  simplicity  of  character  which  he  had 
before  displayed. 


320  DAVY. 

In  1803,  he  commenced  his  lectures  on  agriculture, 
which  were  afterwards  published,  and  constitute  the 
ahlest  scientific  treatise  on  the  subject,  that  has  ever 
appeared.  He  soon  after  entered  upon  the  investi- 
gation of  the  laws  of  voltaic  electricity ;  and  here  his 
discoveries  were  of  the  most  brilliant  character.  He 
continued  his  chemical  pursuits  with  great  success, 
and  at  last  he  held  the  first  rank  in  Europe,  in  the 
department  of  science  to  which  his  life  had  been 
devoted.  In  1812,  he  was  knighted,  and  the  same 
year  he  obtained  a  large  fortune  by  his  marriage  with 
Miss  Apreece. 

In  1813,  he  visited  France  and  Italy,  and  after  his 
return,  invented  the  safety-lamp.  This  consists  of  a 
lamp  the  blaze  of  which  is  encircled  by  wire  gauze, 
which  prevents  it  from  setting  fire  to  the  inflammable 
air  of  mines,  and  causing  explosions,  which  have 
often  proved  fatal  to  the  miners.  His  life  was  a  con- 
tinued scene  of  activity  and  success  in  chemical 
pursuits,  and  his  inventions  and  investigations  have 
not  only  greatly  extended  the  boundaries  of  science, 
but  contributed  much  to  the  advantage  of  human 
society.  In  1829,  he  died  of  apoplexy  at  Geneva, 
whither  he  had  travelled  for  the  benefit  of  his  health. 

The  character  of  Sir  Humphry  Davy  is  not  wholly 
free  from  blemishes,  yet  he  must  be  regarded  as  a 
man  of  great  genius,  and  it  is  to  be  remarked  that  he 
was  particularly  successful  in  applying  science  to  the 
useful  arts.  His  invention  of  the  safety  lamp  has 
saved  thousands  of  lives,  and  his  work  on  agriculture 
has  greatly  increased  the  power  of  man  in  making  the 
soil  productive  of  those  things  which  contribute  to  his 
comforts  and  his  necessities. 


ADVZ!RTISi:XlIZ:iTT-Ci^BI27£:T  I.ISRAI17. 

from  the  Boston  Post,  Jubj  8. 

We  hardly  know  when  we  have  been  belter  pleased  with  a  {ub.ica- 
tlon  tlian  this. 

From  Hunt's  Merchant's Mairaiine,  September,  1845. 

This  work,  nuw  tomplite,  is  Ihe  most  elalnirate  of  tlie  works  of  the  au- 
thor for  tlie  youiij;  ;  and  we  think  it  ((Uite  liie  bi'st.  It  is  a  tihrary  uf  facts, 
and  sei'iMs  intended  to  ciillivate  a  taste  for  lliis  kind  of  reading.  It  is  said 
ihat  "  truth  i.s  sininyer  than  fiction,"  and  no  one  who  lias  ptnised  these 
pages  can  feel  any  necessity  for  seeking  excitement  in  the  liigii-wrought 
pages  of  romance.  lOveiy  subject  touched  by  the  author  seems  invested 
with  a  lively  interest;  and  even  dry  statistics  are  made,  like  steel  be- 
neath the  strokes  of  the  (lint,  to  yield  sjiarks  calculated  to  kindle  the  mind. 
In  treating  of  the  iron  manufacture,  —  a  rather  hard  subject,  it  would  seem, 
—  we  are  told  tliat,  every  "  working  day,  fifty  millions  of  nails  are  made, 
bought,  sold,  and  used  in  tlie  United  States  ;  "  and,  in  speaking  of  tte  man- 
ufacture of  cotton,  we  are  informed  that  the  Merrimack  mills  of  Lowell 
alone  ''  spin  a  thread  of  suliicient  length  to  belt  the  world,  at  the  equator, 
in  two  hours." 

'J'he  work  was  doubtless  intended  for  the  young  ;  and  wo  think  it  quite 
equal,  for  this  object,  to  any  thing  that  has  been  produced  ;  yet  it  is  also 
suited  to  the  perusal  of  all  classes,  especially  to  men  of  business,  who  find 
little  leisure  for  reading,  and  who  yet  are  unwilling  to  be  left  behind  in 
tlie  great  inarch  of  knowledge  and  iiiipriivemen*..  jis  there  is  nowa  strong  de- 
sire, especially  among  the  enlightened  frienUs  uf  education  in  this  state,  to  have 
the  common  schools  supplied  with  suitable  bonus  for  libraries,  we  heartily  corn- 
mend  this  series  to  the  notice  of  all  who  are  desirous  of  obtaining  books  for 
this  object.  They  are  unquestionably  among  the  best  that  have  been  prepared 
fur  school  libraries,  being  every  way  attractive  and  instructive. 

No  one  can  fail  to  be  pleased  with  the  simplicity  and  elegance  of  the 
style,  and  with  therein  of  cheerfulness,  humanity,  and  morality,  which 
runs  through  the  pages  of  the  volumes.  The  moral  intluence  of  the  work, 
especi;illy  upon  the  young,  cannot  fail  to  be  in  the  highest  degree  effec'.ive 
and  salutary. 

From  the  Troy  IVhig,  July  20. 

They  are  written  in  an  easy  and  graceful  style,  and  are  compiled  from 
the  most  authentic  sources.  They  will  he  found  highly  attractive  to  youtig 
people  of  both  sexes,  and  worthy  to  be  read  by  persons  of  mature  age. 

From  the  .Albany  .Advertiser. 
It  would  be  difficult  to   find  any  where,  in  such  convenient  compass, 
so  much  healthy  and  palatable  food  for  the  youthful  mind  as  is  furnisheJ 
by  Parley's  Cabinet  Library. 

From  the  jilbany  .Irgus. 
We  know  of  no  series  of  volumes  on  kindred  subjects  so  good  as  these 
for  parents  to  put  into  the  hands  of  their  children.      It  is  due  not  only  to 
the  author,  who  has  rendered  great  service  to  the  cause  of  American  lit- 
erature, but  to  the  Work  itself,  and  to  the  best  interests  of  the  youtli  of  out 
nation,  that  these  volumes  siiould  be  scattered  all  over  the  land. 
From  the  JVew  England  Puritan. 
We  cordially  recommend  the  work  to  the  perusal  of  all. 

From  the  Boston  Post,  May  6. 
The  very  best  work  of  its  class  is  Parley's  (Cabinet  Library.  It  combines 
a  vast  deal  of  useful  inlormalion,  conveyed  in  an  exceedingly  interesting 
style.  The  beauty  of  the  typographical  execution,  the  cheapness  of  the 
volumes,  and  the  great  intrinsic  merit  of  their  contents,  must  render  tha 
work  one  of  general  |)opularity 

F\  om  the  Boston  Courier,  May  18. 
As  we  have  quoted  so  largely  from  Mr.  Goodrich's  work,  we  ought  to 
nay — what  it  nclily  ineriio  —  tiiat  it  is  a  pleasing  and  useful  Keried,  an<i 


ADVSRTISEIVIEN-T— C^BIITXIT  lalBStARV. 

that  iC  is  cnlculnted  nut  only  to  in^^t^uct  and  nitiuse,  liul  tu  ciiltivnie  viitii- 
0U3  and  patriotic  sentiments.  With  tl.(»e  wlio  read  fur  mere  amusement, 
it  13  worthy  of  uttt'nti<jn,  foe  the  author  iias  ingeniously  coiitrivoU  tu  give 
trutb  all  tlie  charms  of  tiction. 

From  the  Mbany  Advertiser, 

It  ought  to  be,  and  no  doubt  will  be,  extensively  introduced  into  schools 
Friim  the  Hay  State  Demucrat,  July  8. 

The  volumes  are  illustrated  with  spirited  wood  en^'iavinsrs,  and  printeiZ 
in  Dickinson's  neatest  style.  Altogether,  they  present  decidedly  tiie  ninsl 
attractive  appearance  as  to  matter  and  form,  of  any  works  we  have  seen  foi 
a  long  time. 

From  the  Quincy  Jlurora. 

Parley's  Cabinet  Library  is  a  publication  of  rare  excellence.  No  writer 
of  the  jtresent  day  invests  the  themes  of  which  he  treats  wi:h  livelier  inter- 
est thai,  the  well-known  I'etnr  Parley.  His  pen  imparts  to  liistory  and  bio:;- 
rapliy  the  charm  of  romance  ;  while,  at  the  same  time,  it  unfolds  rich  and 
enduring  treasures  of  practical  and  useful  knowledge. 

The  animal,  the  mineral,  and  vegetable  kingdoms  of  nature  present, 
beneath  his  pencil,  the  attractions  of  a  grand  museum.  The  publication 
of  his  Cabinet  Library  will  accomplish  much,  in  our  opinion,  to  eradicate 
the  eagerness  for  fiction  which  engrosses  so  extensively  tlie  public  mind 
The  perusal  of  these  volumes  will  convince  the  reader  that  reality  lias 
charms  as  potent,  and  far  more  satisfying  than  tliose  of  the  ideal  worU 
We  know  of  no  work,  comprehended  within  equal  limits,  capable  of  aft'ord- 
iiig  richer  intellectual  banqueting. 

From  the  Boston  Traveller. 
We  deem  it  but  a  discharge  of  our  duty  to  our  readers,  to  urge  this  val- 
uable series  upon  their  attention.     The  whole  series  will  cost  but  a  tritle, 
yet  they  may  and  doubtless  will  he  the  deciding  means  of  insuring  suc- 
cess in  life  to  many  a  youth  who  shall  enjoy  the  means  of  reading  them. 

From  the  Bonton  Recorder. 
They  are  written  in  a  pleasing  style,  and  are  enlivened  by  numerous 
characteristic  anecdotes.     The  series  will  form  a  very  valuable  library. 

From  the  Boston  Post,  May  27. 

It  is  an  admirable  publication  for  the  family  and  school  library.  Its  tep- 
ics  are  interesting  and  important,  and  presented  in  a  simole  but  elfective 
style. 

From  the  Boston  Atlas,  July  8. 

Parleys  Cabinet  Library  is  worthy  of  all  encouragement.  It  is  cheap 
not  only  in  promise,  but  in  fact.  It  is  also  calculated  to  exercise  a  wliule- 
Bome  influence.  Like  every  thing  from  the  same  author,  it  strongly  iii- 
tulcates  virtue  and  religion,  and  at  the  same  time  it  arrays  truth  in  a  guise 
»o  comely  and  attractive,  that  it  is  likely  to  win  many  votaries  of  fiction 
to  companionsliip  with  it.     There  is  great  need  of  such  works  at  tiiis  time 

BoAHD  OF  Educatio?;,       / 
City  of  Rochester,  Sept.  2,  Jti4-J.  j 

Whereas,  the  Board  of  Education  have  examined  a  series  of  books 
called  "  Parley's  Cabinet  Library,"  now  in  course  of  publication  by  Samuel 
G.  Goodrich,  Esq.,  (the  celebrated  Peter  Parley,)  embracing,  in  the  course 
of  twenty  volumes,  the  various  sulijects  of  history,  biography,  geography, 
tlie  manners  and  customs  of  different  nations,  the  condition  of  tlie  arts, 
sciences,  &c.  ;  and  whereas,  this  Board  are  satisfied  that  the  same  are  high- 
ly useful  to  the  young:  therefore, 

Resolved,  that  we  recommen<l  that  the  same  be  procured  by  trustees  for 
the  sever.il  school  libraries,  at  the  earliest  practicable  pe-io<l.  A  true  copy 
of  the  minutes,  '    F.  J\1ack,  Sup'L 


ADVEHTISS3yEE2?T— CABINET  LIBRAHIT, 

PARLEY'S  CABINET  LIBRARY, 

For  Schools  and  Families, 

This  work  consists  of  Twenty  Volumes,  and  contains 
[{lyjivc  hundred  different  subjects,  and  is  illustrated  by  fivi 
hundred  Engravings. 

dj'  It  is  an  entirely  original  series,  recently  written  and 
completed  by  S.  G.  Goodrich,  the  aut/^or  of  Peter  Parley's 
Tales. 

[tj'  This  is  the  only  library  that  has  been  expressly  written 
Jor  a  School  and  Family  Library.  It  is  adopted  into  many  of 
the  libraries  of  the  leading  scliools  and  seminaries  in  New 
England  and  New  York,  and  lias  been  introduced,  in  the 
space  of  a  few  months,  into  more  than  three  thousand  fami- 
lies, in  Boston,  New  York,  and  Philadelpliia. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  the  Volumes,  each  containing 
about  320  pages,  16mo. :  — 

BIOGRAPHICAL  DEPARTMENT. 

Vol.  1.^  Lives  of  Famous  Men  of  Modern  Times. 
"  2. —  Lives  of  Famous  Men  of  Ancient  Times. 
«<     3.  —  Curiosities  of  Human  Nature  ;  or.  The  Lives 

of  Eccentric  and  Wonderful  Persons. 
««     4,  —  Lives   of    Benefactors;    including  Patriots, 

Inventors,    Discoverers,  &c. 
♦'     5.  —  Lives  of  Famous  American  Indians. 
"    6.  —  Lives  of  Celebrated  Women. 

HISTORICAT.  DEPART31ENT. 

"     7.  —  Lights  and  Shadows  of  American  History. 
"     8.  —  Lights  and  Shadows  of  European  History 
"     9.  —  Lights  and  Shadows  of  Asiatic  History. 
»'  10.  —  Light."  and  Shadows  of  African  History 
"  11.  —  History  of  the  American  Indians. 
««  12.  —  Manners,  Customs,  and  Antiquities    of    thr 
American  Indians. 

MISCELLANEOUS. 

"  13.  —  A  Glance  at  the  Sciences,  Astronomy,  Nat0 

RAL  Philosophy,  &c. 
««  14.  —  Wonders  of  Geology. 
♦'  15.  —  Anecdotes  of  the  Animal  Kingdom. 
«  16.  —  A    Glance   at    Philosophy,   Mental,  Mcrai,, 

AND  Social. 
»  17,  —  Book  of  Literature,  Ancient   ahd   Moderv, 

with  Specimens. 


ADVERTISEMEITT— CABIXTET  XiIBRii.RV. 

Vol.18. —  Enterpuise,  Industry,  and  Art  of  Man. 

"  19.  —  Mannkrs  and  Customs  of  all  Nations 

"  20.  —  The  World  and  its  Inhabitants. 

[O^  These  works  are  designed  to  exhibit,  in  a  popular 
form,  Select  Biographies,  Ancient  and  Modern;  liie 
Wonders  and  Curiosities  of  History,  Nature,  Art,  Sci- 
ence, AND  Philosophy,  with  the  Practical  Duties  of  Life. 

It  cannot  be  deemed  invidious  to  say,  that  no  similar  work 
has  met  with  equal  favor  at  the  hands  of  the  public,  as  the 
following  testimonials,  among  many  others,  will  show  :  — 
The  Hon.  II.  O.  Otis,  of  Boston,  saijs,  June  4,  1_845, 

I  view  it  as  tlie  best  conipeiidium  of  useful  learning  and  infornaation,  re 
Bpecting  its  proposed  contents,  fur  the  ime  of  yuu-ng  persons  and  sclwols, 
that  Ims  fiillen  within  my  knowledge.  It  abounds  in  illustrations  of  the 
history  of  the  world,  and  the  customs  and  manners  of  nations,  that  may  be 
read  by  general  scholars  of  any  age,  with  pleasure. 

The  Rev.  Dr.  Sprague  says,  Albany,  June  10,  1845, 

I  regard  the  Cabinet  Library  as  a  most  important  accession  to  the  means 
of  intellectual  and  moral  culture,  especially  in  respect  to  the  rising  genera- 
tion. But  while  it  is  peculiarly  adapted  to  the  young,  it  may  be  read  by 
persons  of  any  age  with  both  pleasure  and  profit.  To  men  of  business,  who 
have  not  leisure  to  read  extensively,  and  indeed  to  all  who  would  keep  up 
with  the  times,  the  work  is  invaluable.  It  is  also  suited  to  the  various 
members  of  the  family  circle,  5:5°  and  is  among  the  very  best  if  the  libraries 
for  public  schools.  I  learn  that  it  is  introduced  into  the  public  schools  of 
this  city,  (Albany,)  and  various  other  places,  and  I  cannot  doubt  that  it 
will  ultimately  be  adopted  in  our  seminaries  of  learning  generally. 

Charles  Spragiic,  Esq.,  of  Boston,  says,  June  24,  1345, 
I  have  read,  with  both  pleasure  and  profit,  all  the  numbers  of  your  very 
instructive  Cabinet  Library.  My  friend  and  namesake,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Spiague, 
has  so  exactly  expressed  my  opinion  of  the  work,  that  1  need  only  adopt 
his  language,  in  recommending  it,  as  I  cheerfully  do,  to  the  favorable 
attention  of  both  teachers  and  learners. 

From  the  Quincy  Patriot,  July  8. 

We  recommend  it  (Parley's  Cabinet  Libiary)  as  peculiarly  valuable  to 
families.  We  often  see  one  young  man  taking  precedence  of  others  in  the 
race  of  life.  If  we  could  read  his  history  minutely,  we  should  see  the 
explanation  of  the  case  to  be,  that  he  had  a  better  head  or  a  better  heart 
than  others.  Now  we  know  of  no  works  so  well  calculated  to  mould  tiie 
head  and  heart  aright  as  those  of  "  Peter  Parley." 

Those  parents  who  wish  to  have  their  children  "  go  ahead  "  in  life, 
should  place  Parley's  Cabinet  Library  within  their  reach.  We  have  never 
seen  a  work  better  suited  to  bestow  instruction,  or  that  inculcates  truth  In 
a  more  pleasant  fashion. 

From  the  Boston  Courier,  July  S. 

They  are  exceedingly  agreeable  books,  and  such  as  young  and  old  may 
peruse  with  pleasure  and  profit.  The  monil  and  religious  account  to  which 
the  author  turns  every  subject  must  render  the  work  peculiarly  suitable 
to  the  family  and  the  school  library.  We  cheerfully  commend  the  work 
to  the  public  as  one  of  sterling  value. 

From  the  Boston  Atlas,  May  3. 
It  ii!  a  compact  family  and  school  library  of  substantial  readins.  which  is 
ilelightful  in  point  of  style,  and  wholesome  in  its  moral,  socul,  and  religiotu 
tendency. 


■#^ 


L{)&  ANGJuUiS 


This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last 
date  stamped  below 


3m-6,'50(550)470 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

L(te  ANGKU:S 


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